HALO - Begging After Knowledge, part 2
by CaptChris42
Summary: Periodic new chapters of my Halo novella, this time focusing on Mendicant Bias' rise to power, with some surprises. I had some difficulty in teasing out the backstory from Bear's novels and other sources here, but I hope I have risen to the occasion.
1. Chapter 1

BEGGING AFTER KNOWLEDGE, PART 2

 _(Compiler's note: thank you for bearing with me this far on the background details. From now on we venture into important territory concerning motivations and capabilities, which we will review at a later date. For now, I present the next files)_

STRING 8

 _Earth calendar – estimated 106,000 BCE +/- ?_

Mendicant Bias' work was long and hard – at least by the standards of organics. For a machine mind that could process thousands of concepts and hard data points in a second or less, it was considerably less taxing. He was already making progress that astonished even other artificial intelligences employed in similar tasks.

After drawing up new analysis algorithms to speed his progress along, he began to get feedback from personnel assigned to the frontlines. Discreetly, these gave hints as to the effectiveness of the new emerging strategy. Although little was stated, it was clear that Faber had started moving his weapons into position.

In short order after that, the Didact announced Bias' summons to come and consult with the Domain.

Bias was loaded aboard a well-armed Forerunner Dreadnought – an immense, sixteen kilometre long bladelike vessel, with two smaller detachable craft bracketing either side of the 'hilt'. Each ended in a smaller blade slicing down like a scythe. The three hulls combined packed considerable firepower and engine thrust geared towards major interstellar campaigns.

Using advanced slipspace engines, the vessel crossed the galactic distances at millions of times the speed of light, riding amid stabilising quantum fields to prevent its mass and atomic structure from being scattered explosively amongst the free-flowing electric charges and other phenomena propagating through multidimensional space.

The journey was swift and uneventful, apart from some routine hails and security checks as they neared the secure zone around their destination.

They arrived near to a secreted node where researchers observed and interacted with the Domain – a _(Compiler's note: some details are corrupted here – perhaps obscured for secrecy)_

"Dreadnought, you are clear for docking…" a voice informed the crew.

An hour later, Bias was connected up to an _omphalum_ – a kind of dimensional-interface – and granted his consultation.

Forerunners had learned a variety of methods for communing with the Domain, beginning with simple mental reverie that allowed them to access deeper regions of consciousness. It was conjectured that this had only become possible after passing a threshold of evolutionary development – or that the Domain somehow chose whom to admit, when they became prominent enough on the galactic stage. This had led to farther philosophical debate on the nature of the Mantle and how Forerunners related to the rest of the galaxy.

The Didact had indicated that on some level the Mantle itself was threatened by this so-called Flood. Bias was of somewhat uncertain mind in this regard – the Mantle seemed broad in its embrace of life in its many forms. Lifeforms had to adapt and evolve, even if they came in conflict and competition with others. Truly though, the Flood was rather cruel in its ravages, tearing away control and repurposing bodies by brute force mutation. The Master Builder's programming instructions were rather blunter in their directions, but of the same general thrust.

Where there were apparent contradictions, well – Forerunners were very experienced in perceiving multiple viewpoints and finding synthesis. No less was expected of their creations.

After a few moments, Bias' normal perceptions of surrounding space-time began to drift away: multispectral vision of light waves and radiation faded into a strange misty environment. A close examination might have revealed an odd granular texture, suggestive of digital rendering. Some considered the imagery to have a holographic-style structure, but consensus was difficult.

Around Bias, a kind of matrix formed, assuming a topology like that of curved space represented in vector lines. Time passed – minutes, maybe hours. Then a sombre voice spoke:

" _ **Ancilla – I bid you welcome to the Domain. You seek knowledge?"**_

Bias paused before answering. "Your voice appears to closely resemble my own. I am confused, yet curious."

" _ **This voice represents your level of comprehension and connection with the Domain, enhancing clarity. If you prefer, a more archetypal persona may be selected."**_

"I am willing to try to adapt to a female persona…"

" _ **Is this more to your liking?"**_ the voice shifted.

"It will suffice. Please, if I may: I have questions…"

" _ **Be aware that the Domain may currently only reveal permutations of what was already known and experienced by those who went before…"**_

"So noted: I would ask – what is known currently of the central mind of the parasitic lifeform infesting former human space?"

" _ **The creature has a purpose, an overarching Will imparted to it from a central locus. It is believed by many that this originated at great remove in time and space from the parasite's current sphere of operations…"**_

"Interesting… and the source of this data?"

" _ **General impressions gained from victims awaiting their fate, and those who resisted. Their fearful outcries leave ragged traces in the Domain, which shift as new qualia and textures surface. Threads weave together…"**_

"…To create a larger whole, I see: This is gleamed from Forerunner and human combatants, yes?"

" _ **Not so… only from Forerunners."**_

"There are no human traces? Despite the combat they engaged in?"

" _ **Vague and diffuse sensations only, lacking clear content…"**_

"This is most irregular. Without this, I am deprived of valuable resources, dependent on what is harvested by the Composer…"

" _ **We know of the Composer… its use leaves disruptions in the Domain, fearful and violent, if brief. It causes concern among us."**_

"Perhaps so, but it has aided us in our path to victory."

" _ **Victory at too high a price affects the quality of Living-Time. A great nexus looms ahead, promising great peril. Beyond it, our perceptions grow murky and agitated."**_

"Then I must redouble my efforts to locate the Mind. Does it communicate using the Domain in any fashion?"

" _ **Unclear, but there is indications of sensations being transferred – and of pain… considerable pain. Space is alight with grief, regret."**_

"I am sorrowed to learn this – as best my matrix can approximate to the feeling. I will attempt to rectify this forthwith."

" _ **Then know one thing more, ancilla: there is something familiar behind this anguish and hunger… something not yet tangible."**_

"Thank you – I will resume my duties now."

" _ **In time, you will learn to communicate with us more easily – but be careful in passing on what you do learn…"**_

Across a space of several seconds, the curved space and lines melted into mist, and then normal sensations rushed into Bias' processing centre once more.

"Metarch – did you receive what you were searching for?" the lead Haruspis, a researcher come diviner, asked tensely.

"I have learned much, much that troubles me…"

Bias resumed his place aboard the dreadnought in short order, and was ready to return to the frontlines where the Didact marshalled his forces for a great push. The time would soon come to draw the Mind into the open, and Bias must devise his strategy to attack it quickly.

"So that is all that could be provided at this time," the Didact reflected ruefully. "Well we know some things: perhaps this Mind is an evolution of some more ancient entity, strongly telepathic and intelligent. That raises complications, but changes our dilemma little at this time. Incidentally, how was your experience, personally?"

"It was most stimulating, and not precisely as I had expected. It is a different world in there… folds and spaces, stretching away indefinitely, amorphously. Potentialities awaiting realisation…"

"Many philosophers spend years in there seeking knowledge and wisdom, but we do not have the time to spare. You hove to your goal, as ever?"

"It is my function, Master. My purpose and vocation: I will not admit distraction…"

"Loyal _and_ focused… most commendable. I will give you the time needed to complete your mission."

Eventually, after analysing data from many real-time recording devices, and models of the theatre in typical spacetime and in higher-dimensional membranes, Bias hit upon a means of zeroing in on the flow of communication: a brief window of triangulation, but sufficient for targeting. He alerted the Didact, discreetly.

Weeks later, the Didact travelled to the Capital to get Council approval, as quietly as he could arrange. Faber would also be there – even the Librarian, it was hoped. He looked forward to reuniting with his wife, however briefly.

Before long, he and Bias stood before the council, numbering over five-thousand in number currently. Faber entered from across the room. They had spoken briefly of their general aims, and he had revealed he had mustered a fleet ready to unleash a coordinated lattice of destruction across Flood space as needed.

Faber opened the discussion, his baritone voice resonating grandly.

"Honoured councillors and advisors from across the grand Forerunner ecumene, I have momentous news to address to you. Long we have struggled with the adversary besetting our borders, and the lives of many, civilians, Builders and Prometheans alike, have been stolen from us by a cruel and calculating menace. But today, I offer our long sought solution. An array of long-ranged destructive weaponry with which to enfold the Flood and their territory, and then to burn their infection clean from space…"

He waved at the holodisplay in the centre of the platform, and a three-dimensional view of space beyond the Orion cluster flickered into view. From one side, large reinforced vessels, some Promethean in design, but most Builder, appeared. The view shrank, and was surrounded by blue dots indicating an immense fleet of hundreds, maybe a thousand or more vessels. Yellow lines streamed forth from each tiny vessel to unleash a firestorm of roiling light searing the centre of the display.

"Impressive," another deep voice intoned. "But your recent reports spoke of a central intelligence which may exist beyond the known extent of the Flood. Will this also be eradicated?"

The Didact recognised the Phylarch of Builders, among the most senior of his rate – and another rival of Faber's.

"Honourable Phylarch, we have devoted much consideration to this issue… the Didact and I…"

"If I may have the attention of this council… I must report a new developing crisis: a report from the Lifeshaper herself!" another official announced loudly. The Didact recognised the slim shape of the Auditor, a senior intelligence and reconnaissance officer in the Ecumene hierarchy. He raced onto the platform beside him.

"Tell us your news, Auditor, and make haste!" the Speaker implored.

"I have here a direct communications link from the Librarian," he replied, patching in a feed into the projector.

The display reshaped itself into the image of the Librarian, fluid and graceful.

" _Members of the council, I have alarming news: the Flood is mobilising, initiating a major push out of its cordons. New worlds are already threatened, and my current research expedition is in danger of being cut off soon. We can mount no more evacuations past the blockade either."_

The council erupted in growing uproar, leading to shouted dispute.

"We must activate Faber's weapon at once! Eliminate them all before they break the blockade!" the Phylarch cried.

"And what of the still un-evacuated worlds nearby? Or the Librarian and her teams? You would have us bloody our own with an untried weapon…" the Master Juridical, upholder of law, interjected.

" _I trust the council to take the necessary steps needed for the greater whole,"_ the Librarian said, sadly but calmly.

 _Damn her stoicism,_ the Didact reflected, distraught.

"My personnel are willing to try to compute a firing solution that affects as few occupied worlds as we can manage," Faber supplied.

"COUNCILLORS _, please_ – we need not be hasty. There is still time to execute other plans first," the Didact said loudly, hoping his voice would carry clearly. "My own staff has been studying the Flood in anticipation of new tactics such as this, and have devised stratagems. Now… we have the answer."

He let his last statement rest boldly, capturing attention, as he mustered confidence for his proposal.

"…We've built Mendicant Bias. It's a Contender-class ancilla unlike anything we've ever achieved. And we've observed a pattern it can exploit." The Didact assumed control of the holographic display, bringing up the tactical map and feeding in Bias' recent analysis into the readout. The Librarian's image shrank to a distant corner location, overlooking the map.

"The parasite has formed a compound mind. When it reaches a certain mass, the Mind is able to recoil its disparate parts to create a tactical shield. This is a simple matter of mass preservation. The thing has no compunction about sacrificing parts of the whole. But when the core of the Mind is threatened, it reacts violently and quickly. This is the only time we see it retract or slow its growth. If we are to defeat it, the trick will be coordinating our forays against the limbs of growth, while Mendicant Bias assaults the Mind's

Core…"

The Didact allowed the display to play out several stages of the plan, to clarify his point. "So far, we've been hesitant to use certain weapons because of the damage they cause surviving populations and environments. That protocol has been abandoned. Mendicant Bias will draw the Mind into battle outside the line, dealing with local biomass and other parts as best he can. The scale of the problem is vast, but the strategy is sound. It will require

patience, materiel and an investment of energy unlike anything

we have ever considered. It's a dangerous plan that carries more

risk than Faber's englobement, but I believe it can work. Even if we simply force it to retreat – to retract – that will at least give us some

respite. Some time to muster more resources..."

"… _Didact," the Librarian said morosely. "Consider the risks…"_

"We are not going to surrender any more of our own to the parasite… not here, not now."

"This proposal you make is a perilous gamble, Didact," the Master Juridical said sternly. "But it is also a valid one, in my eyes. Once more, you will work with Faber. But he is to be permitted to carry out his plan if you are not successful within a year. This is my amendment. Councillors… do you accept the proposal? Vote now…"

Across the room, the data flooded in from the councillors, resolving into a simple chart on the display – two blocks denoting ayes and nays.

After a few tense moments as the last results were compiled, the vote stood: Three-hundred-ninety in favour, the rest against.

"It is decided. Didact – Faber – you may begin implementation."

The work resumed, now converging towards not a common goal, but two alternatives that must be held equally valid.

Faber had gone back to his coterie of followers, likely to consult with them on creating even more iterations of his weapon – perhaps more surgical this time. The Didact now enjoyed greater resources for keeping track of the Flood's movements. He hoped an opportunity to extricate the Librarian would soon emerge, but must plan for that not being an immediate option.

"Your proposal was very detailed, and quite convincing in the end," he informed Bias indulgently. "It is regretful you could not find a means of avoiding further collateral damage, however."

"It would seem we are past the opportunity for that being an option, Master: both our and the Master Builder's strategies require sacrifice…"

"This is often the grim task of a warrior, when there are no easy choices. I am glad you bear it well.

"Come – I will show you your resources, and help you assemble a fleet to best your adversary…"


	2. Chapter 2

STRING 9

 _Earth calendar – estimated 106,000 BCE +/- ?_

 _(Compiler's note: the previous council session was reassembled with some difficulty. The dates and correlations here are more skewed than most, along with apparent discrepancies with the earlier terminal logs we've located. Speculation on what happened varies, ranging from damage due to the Halo effect and problems reassembling, to a deliberate distortion of details. Suspects include the Master Builder himself… a case I will later attempt corroboration of)_

Bias, now aided by a team of monitors and probes, began by compiling all the data known about the new Flood movements.

The Flood propagated in a variety of stages, each with a few variations according to the biosphere they adapted to. The so-called 'feral stage' saw aggressive expansion and assimilation of bipedal – and some quadruped – lifeforms. Bulbous 'carrier-forms' developed to grow and deploy infection forms to expand further.

After a large army had been created, the Flood moved to the 'coordinated-stage' of acquiring technology and armaments. Soon this led to manipulation of starships and brought on the 'interstellar stage'. It was at this transition that the group mind behaviour began to show signs of larger data transference, and tactical intelligence. Here was where the key patterns he needed to track would emerge.

Bias had also noticed a new disturbing phenomenon here, that of the Flood disrupting communications and data transference between technology systems – a prelude to their takeover. He would obviously have to be on guard here and devise countermeasures to suit the new situation.

The interstellar stage brought about apparent cooperation between multiple occupied systems, and the development of whole new forms grown from deposited biomass without use of a host. It was also at this stage that coordinated feints, traps and naval objectives emerged. Countering all the options here became exponentially more difficult over time, as Forerunner fleet officers were discovering.

Now Bias had access to a much larger fleet – potentially all of the Forerunner military forces coordinated through the Domain, as the Didact had informed him – he could theoretically engage the Flood and deduce the location of their communications nexus. Then the Master Builder or whichever powerful vessels were nearby could lance into the heart of the nexus to get at the Mind within.

But before any of that could happen, it was time to make his moves upon the gameboard, and trust to success.

"Emergency Circumstance fleet – begin deployment into the breakout sector now…" he announced.

Sharp-by-Striking, a Promethean officer commanding a major potion of the Emergency Circumstance fleet, received the communication, and began an aggressive advance into the besieged region. A few dozen dreadnoughts and cruisers led hundreds of frigates and escorts into the new salient – totalling around a thousand in all.

On long range scans, a growing fleet of hijacked vessels gathered to oppose them. Although not visible from this distance of hundreds of light-years, Sharp knew that each would be marred by strange growths across key surfaces and viewports.

Sharp knew of much of the Didact's plan, and had served him before, but this time he had started to grow sceptical. Much depended upon an ancilla's ability to detect an invisible pattern; and the use of heavier Builder firepower was being denied them. Already six worlds had become overrun in the last twenty-two hours, and Sharp had already lost comrades – friends. Still, he would stand by his appointed duty…

"Prepare to engage, and send the flashcode to the other squadrons awaiting in ambush – quietly. There must be no warning…" Strike told his crew.

Over the next half a day, forces moved closer together, in due course clashing in combat. Elongated streams of weaponised plasma hammered into Flood warships, and intense laser beams struck back, heating up energy shields into cherry red umbras.

Bias observed all, unblinking, awaiting his moment. He had grown keenly aware that each moment he delayed, the more warriors or civilians were likely to die – six worlds having fallen within a day or so. Eagerness to strike was duly tempered by exacting clinical need for accuracy though.

Other battlegroups were simultaneously invading from further around the bubble of occupied space, delving inside the taut shell of Flood defences, which now coiled and moved to strike at each one.

Combat continued almost without pause for three days, until Bias observed gaps in the enemy formations opening up, and the tendency for some ships to move outward, and then return as if afraid of committing unnecessarily.

When he was certain, he would arrange for a signal via the Domain to reach Faber and his array. After that the Didact would be informed within instants, and press his assault to hold the gaps open. Any mistake or misjudgement here could be costly.

He took in multiple presentations of the data at once – some detailed fractal constructs of fleet movements and firing arcs, others shrunken abstractions of the overall battlefield – like a portrait of some kraken or spider to be duelled. The 'legs' moved slowly, coiling into the path of friendly fleet groups to impede them.

Perceptions elongated as Bias' digital organs of perception swelled to take in every detail of the engagement – much as organic minds were reputed to slow down when in peril.

Then the moment came. The burst was sent, and probabilities began to converge towards only two outcomes.

Faber received the signal, and gave the final deployment orders to _Certain Purification_ , her bulky sister ships and his own flagship crew – _Solar Lathe_ had been retrofitted with its own pulse array weapon recently.

"This is it – our moment of anticipated glory. Finalise the firing solution – swiftly!"

Crews hurried to their tasks, and a bare minute elapsed. All Bias must now do – with the help of the fleets, Faber reflected – was to hold the door open for them.

Repointer-of-Wythes strode among the crew on the large bridge spread below, keeping them on task. Then he jerkily turned in response to a new flash of a communications alert.

"Commence ignition cycle," Faber said, barely noticing.

"Master Builder! There is a communication incoming from the Didact!" Repointer announced loudly.

" _What now?_ Why does he jeopardise our operation at the key moment…" Faber griped in annoyance. "Forward the communication up here…"

Faber waited as a small hologram swelled on the table ahead of him. At another time, he might have been amused by the shrunken image of his old sparring partner.

" _Faber! Are you about to fire…"_

"Yes, Didact, we are doing our part on the battle-line…" Faber replied tersely. "We obviously need to concentrate…"

" _Well belay your orders! Bias is informing me that the formations are starting to shift again – around a new possible locus! We may be acting too hastily…"_

"It is a ruse, my friend… and you are endangering this operation: announcing our plans to the foe – perhaps its real intention here!"

" _If it plans to break out, we may lose our only chance!"_

"We are firing in fifty seconds, Didact… you have until then to convince me…"

" _Folly! Folly and pride of an overeager, overambitious politician: not a soldier!"_

"I am sure the council will be intrigued to hear of these accusations…" Faber said, irked enough to reciprocate nastily. _He is under considerable stress,_ Faber mused. _But what right has he to impugn my reputation so…_

" _Do not dismiss me now! You must halt and be ready to reposition…"_

"We are committed, Faber," Repointer said, indicating the lit weapons consoles.

"There is no time, Didact. Summon your own forces if you wish…"

" _Faber!"_

Further words were drowned out as a shrill alert klaxon sounded across the bridge. A red circle lit up amidst the main globular holo-display… in truth somewhat rimward of the engagement zone from the centre. Red lit icons representing ships converged their firing arcs…

An actinic yellow beam thrust from the bow of their and every other highlighted ship, directly into the targeted area.

A tense minute elapsed as everybody awaited results of the impulsive action.

Overtime, glancing at the displays of the fleets, they saw something strange start to happen to the enemy formations. Need patterns shifted, then shattered. Ships lost coordination and began to collide. Others peeled off with little aim or common goal.

It would a day or so more before the conjecture of disrupted enemy communications was proven to their satisfaction.

More and more, the enemy seemed to lose intelligent agency and firm control of their vessels. Many had been purged already in overlapping firing of the fleet's array. More were hunted down overtime, putting up a dwindling fight.

Some fled back to occupied worlds, but hope was now high of impending victory.

The Didact remained un-persuaded by the new optimism, however.

"You have shown overconfidence and hastiness, my friend," he announced with controlled anger upon boarding _Solar Lathe_ next day. "Mendicant Bias' analysis showed new factors and unpredictable outcomes spiralling outward from his final analysis of the enemy fleets. You may have missed your target…"

"And yet the enemy lies in disarray and limping retreat," Faber said impatiently. The Didact's words brought to mind a time in the far past, before the human war, when there was greater respect between them – and when he had not seemed an impediment to Faber's future plans.

However regretful he might have cause to be though, the Didact had made a demonstrable error by his panicked message – potentially unveiling the entire scheme at the critical moment. The council was not going to take this lightly, he thought.

 _I suppose I should consider this a further gift,_ he mused.

"Mendicant Bias is linked with us now, so let us consult him," Faber suggested. He directed his private holo-display accordingly. "Bias – the Didact wishes to know your assessment on the state of the Flood, and our likelihood of success."

" _All indications are that the enemy is decapitated and in remission, Master Builder. Several worlds are cleansed, including the initial suspected focal point…"_ the machine mind replied amiably.

"And what of your revisions to the targeting data prior to firing?"

" _Indeterminate – assimilation of the new data was not complete – or firm conclusions drawn. However, nothing seems to contradict my prior assessment currently…"_

"I see I have not taught you how to gainsay your superiors!" the Didact ranted angrily. "Do you betray me as well?"

" _I mean no disregard, Master… but simply find no cause for concern based on the available data."_

"Didact, my distinguished comrade – you are clearly considerably stressed, both by your efforts in battle coordination, and by the peril that your wife has so recently been in. I will not personally hold this against you, but simply advise that you get some rest. We will continue the mopping up of the enemy, and advise you if anything changes," Faber said with forced diplomacy. He did not want to anger the warrior to his face, or incur impulsive violence unwittingly.

The Didact seemed to sag, and turned away.

"Your gambits seem to have availed you much, Faber – and delivered you victory and glory. I hope that it is truly earned…" he said, as he slunk away, seeming momentarily beaten.

The council was in very high spirits by the news of Faber's success. Rapidly, the Flood appeared to have fallen away, and no sign of coordinated behaviour seemed to remain in the afflicted region.

Despite his words to the Didact earlier, Faber made little show of extenuating circumstances, and the council duly summoned the warrior leader before an inquest to assess his decisions and command fitness.

Mendicant Bias was sent back into seclusion to research the data of the aftermath of the conflict, and awaited new orders and purpose.


	3. Chapter 3

STRING 10

 _Earth calendar – estimated 106,000 - BCE_

The council had been in deliberation for a good hour, before directly addressing the Didact.

"Shadow-of-Sundered-Star, this council has reviewed much evidence of your decisions over a selective period of six-hundred and twenty-four years. Your conduct has generally been exemplary over much of that time, but lately there have been bold decisions that could be considered rash or not wholly warranted. Your latest actions cast doubt on many prior decisions as well," the Master Juridical said at length.

"My actions have been focused on delivering victory and in frustrating the ends of the Flood, in accordance with the requirements of the Mantle. That is all that I have sought," the Didact replied levelly.

Nearby, various subordinates of his sat as witnesses, including Sharp-by-Striking and the man titled the Examiner.

"The requirements of the Mantle, Didact?" asked the senior Haruspis, sitting in on the trial. "You mandated, upon proposing your plan involving the Contender ancilla, that certain weapons be utilised despite the high risk of civilian casualties. Weapons like mass irradiation weapons, electromagnetic arc bombs, and constructs like G…"

"That was necessary given the deteriorating strategic situation," the Didact replied patiently. "The Flood was about to spread beyond feasible containment, endangering even more worlds in their path. My subordinates agreed that this was the only valid option to buy time."

"And did you?" the Haruspis addressed the two warriors.

"Our analysis concurred with his," the Examiner said emphatically. Sharp-by-Striking nodded coldly.

"And none of these weapons were deployed near the location of the Librarian and her teams, though, were they?"  
"They were not yet directly in the path of the Flood…"

"Not yet… of course, glad as we all are that the Librarian has safely returned to us, a case could be made of partiality in the Didact's tactics."

"I stand by my decisions – and their results. Mendicant Bias' design was my initiative, and I supplied him in his strategy to attain victory."

"Yet the killing blow itself came via Faber-of-Will-and-Might, and his assembled armada," the Phylarch said pointedly.

"Many resources were needed to achieve victory."

"As for the primary charge: or impulsively endangering the main battle strategy based on unclear new data…"

"There I admit responsibility, but based on my best analysis of the data presented to me, and on the conclusions forwarded by Mendicant Bias…"

"I did not place major urgency upon my conclusions, Master," Bias said, hovering nearby across the tribunal chamber.

"A warrior and commander must be prepared to make rapid assessments and quick decisions. Based on what I understood of the threat, I had no choice but to apprise Faber."

"It is clear we are going in circles here," the Master Juridical said tiredly. "We cannot clearly obtain a charge of dereliction of duty here, but your actions do not appear to have been soundly made."

"It is easy for a politician at far remove from peril to decide this, or an isolated legal council. I uphold my request to be tried in part by my peers…"

"This has been duly forwarded… we must now continue our proceedings…"

The eventual decision of the council found in favour of the Didact – barely. He did not escape unscathed, however.

"Shadow-of-Sundered-Star, it is the decision of this council that you retain your command, but under supervision of this council, and in partnership with Builder Security. Faber-of-Will-and-Might will be given priority in all Flood related projects from now on. He will also take priority in the utilisation of the Contender-class ancilla currently known as 05-032 Mendicant Bias; Shadow-of-Sundered-Star, do you concur with these requirements?"

The Didact showed little sign of irritation over the omission of his title. "I do so concur," he said shortly.

"You may resume command of a reduced fleet group, assigned to patrol of the recently liberated region, so as to ensure no Flood remain as a viable threat. This council is adjourned."

Later, the Didact began his passage back to the _Mantle's Approach_ , accompanied by the Confirmer as his initial second-in-command.

"Honourable Didact – sir – do you have any particular orders?" the Confirmer asked in a subdued tone.

"We will commence our patrol of the region, beginning with the outer reaches," the Didact said quietly, ponderously. Then his head lifted up alertly, curiously.

"In fact, we will begin by making a survey of Hakkor system and other Precursor sites out that way. There are unanswered questions surrounding this…"

"Faber-of-Will-and-Might, this council is indebted to you for your winning strategy and swift and decisive action. We remain concerned about the prospect of another Flood incursion however, considering the unclear circumstances of their arrival in human space," the Phylarch expounded.

"Our research suggests origin close to the galactic halo – the periphery. It is vaguely possible that they originated from a satellite galaxy, or perhaps even further afield…" Faber informed them.

"Then the threat is not yet ended for certain, and we are in need of a coordinated defence. If the Flood entered our galaxy from one location, more of it might enter from elsewhere, to unpredictable result."

 _Evidently,_ Faber mused. "If it pleases the honourable council members, my team and I are prepared to begin work on a new strategic weapon based upon our existing research, geared towards galactic-scale defence. We will of course, require a major development budget before we can begin…"

"Then I propose that council withdraw to deliberate upon a decision – agreed?"

The crowd of councillors flashed assent on the hologram display, and Faber departed to prepare his proposals.

Within a few years, an unpublicised agreement was reached between Faber and the Ecumene council. Funding and resources would be provided toward the development of an ultimate defensive weapon, and the majority of the Forerunner population would be kept in the overall dark about the Flood threat until an appropriate time to inform them was decided.

With no other major guilds or contractors being involved, Faber's now sizable block of elite Builders had a monopoly on the whole project, along with jurisdiction of a growing number of former warrior caste members now throwing their support to Builder Security. Forced to yield to goodwill, the Phylarch was expediting Faber's bold new ambitions, which would see him thrust further to prominence in council affairs.

All in all, it had been a very profitable conflict. Now it remained to summon Maker, Repointer and Shaper to discuss new – probably larger weapon designs.

 _Perhaps the Contender would also be valuable in expediting design and utility? Not to mention coordination and control,_ Faber mused, lightly flitting between all the prospects that now presented themselves to him. Opportunities were finally lining up with one another as he had long planned…

Long centuries passed as weapon and systems concepts underwent progressive design, evolution and redesign. In time, this stretched to three millennia as the now prosperous Builder teams milked the process for all it was worth. Sentry taskforces reported no sign of new Flood incursions, and all concerned began to wonder if such concerns would ever be pertinent in the long term.

Mendicant Bias sat fairly passively through that long epoch, receiving and comparing data, analysing blueprints for new weapon systems and approving these or suggesting refinements. New of the Prometheans was scattered and fleeting, but suggestive of their developing their own strategies. Bias had no particular desire to forward any of this to Faber at this time, but was aware this might be required of him according to council mandate.

Many now viewed the Didact with more reservation and scepticism than before, and were less willing to lend support. Underfunded warriors were increasingly relocating into Faber's new military program.

Reflecting slightly ruefully on his change in circumstances, Bias reviewed a proposal from Maker-of-Worlds, and amended it accordingly, before forwarding it for Faber's consideration.

Faber had examined numerous proposals for new weapon systems, many of which had feasibility problems.

Creating a linear destructive blast was not so difficult, and advances had been made in precision targeting. Creating an overlapping and self-boosting shockwave effect had proven harder though. Coverage of wide areas was greatly sought for at this time.

Seeing the next proposal was from Maker-of-Worlds, he perked up to see what the artisan and his team's latest concept involved.

Compacted data unfolded into blueprints, schematics and simulation videos, depicting multiple pulse phase generators discharging in a linear array.

 _Curious – what are they aiming at? Ah – depict in three dimensional complete configuration…_ Faber pondered.

The image shifted and the display zoomed out to show dozens of small pulse generators arrayed in a curving path. Faber soon saw that they described a complete circular band. Energy pulses converged into a central focal point, which swelled with light. Seconds later an intense beam shot forth like a searchlight. The image shrank again to show the reach of the beam, and then a widening area of affect.

Faber looked on with growing intrigue.

"Adjunct – shelf the other submissions and prepare my staff for formal briefing… I have an announcement to make."


	4. Chapter 4

STRING 11

 _Earth calendar – estimated 102,800 BCE…_

Faber held court with his supporters a short time later, waiting for all the principals to arrive before he sealed the meeting chamber, and initiated counter-eavesdropping fields around the area.

"Friends – we are hear to discuss the latest weapon concept proposed by Maker-of-Worlds recently. I cede the floor to him so he may discuss the particulars…"

"Thank you, Master Builder," Maker said graciously. "My team and I have long laboured over this design, and believe we have found the means of pairing the maximum yield with the greatest range and utility into a mobile weapons platform. Observe…"

A hologram sprang to life, displaying a great ring-shape floating in the void.

"Uniting multiple pulse-generators and beam arrays, this weapon combines firepower into a central convergence point that can then discharge across slipspace over a vast region, potentially tens of thousands of light years. A small number of such weapons can encompass the entire galaxy, and selectively blanket areas with radiation tuned to neural physics common to the Flood. Within minutes, a wide portion of the galactic disc can be sterilised of all Flood and their infection vectors," Maker expounded solemnly.

"Sterilised – wiped clean of all life, you mean?" Shaper asked.

"All life above a certain bare minimum of biomass, that is. The Flood requires sufficient calcium stores in order to reproduce, as well as proteins and neurology."

"How big is this weapon?" Repointer asked… pointedly.

"We have developed variations on the basic concept in design phase, but the optimal power and configuration would seem to require a circular band up to 30,000 kilometres in diameter."

"Thirty thousand…" Shaper exclaimed, nearly aghast.

"Recall this is a very powerful weapon – the evolution of all our prior concepts. You may all participate in its further development and deployment," Maker said reassuringly.

"It is a considerable investment you are proposing, Maker," Faber said contemplatively. "How many of these are we to construct?"

"At least twelve would be my recommendation." Maker paused, assembling his argument. "I can assure you, given the severity of the threat, we can probably get all the support and funding we require from the council and the Miners' administrative board. With the level of craftsmanship required, all our services would be engaged – likely to the greater profit of all involved."

 _A blunt but accurate point to make,_ Faber reflected. "Come-come, Maker: There is no need for such crude motivation. I am sure we are all eager to do our part in the defence of the galaxy!"

"But already many are saying the threat has truly passed. It has been over three thousand years…" Shaper rebutted.

"Perhaps the council does not properly appreciate the data we have collected. A better presentation thereof may remind them of their responsibilities here..." _and a share in the profits, perhaps._

"Are you sure we cannot make them smaller? Perhaps more numerous…"  
"In time, maybe," Maker conceded sceptically. "For now, I think we had best deliver the proposal as it is…"

"Then we are all agreed?" Faber asked, rallying them.

" _Aya_ …"

" _Aya_ … may it be so."

The rest chimed in quickly, filling the room with their murmur. Faber lifted his head with a satisfied air, keen to proceed.

"Let us not keep the council waiting then…"

Weeks later the Master Builder's team stood before the council in the amphitheatre, awaiting the silencing of the agitated councillors.

"Faber-of-Will-and-Might, now called Master Builder – we understand you have a proposal to put before us?" the Speaker announced.

"That is indeed so, Speaker. With the aid of this presentation, I will elucidate." Faber activated the projector, and let the program slowly run as he spoke.

"You are already familiar with the basic weapons technology we utilised against the Flood previously – reverse-engineered from the Composer effect and similar technologies. My team, led by Maker-of-Worlds, has now developed a far larger, superior weapons system to fulfil our contract for galactic defence:

"This weapons array combines dozens of beam emitters powered by advanced pulse generators. Upon firing, these beams will converge in a region that draws additional zero-point energy into the field for an energy boost, allowing field propagation across a vast region… a _vast_ region," Faber emphasised. "In concert with similarly fielded weapons, this can effectively blanket most of the galactic disk in radiation lethal to the Flood and its shared intelligence. Alternatively, each weapon can be tuned to affect a much smaller region, even as small as a single solar system."

He paused as the holo-display further communicated his intent with a detailed animation, zooming out on an irradiated galaxy.

"This vast radiation output sounds incredibly lethal to all major lifeforms, Master Builder," the Prelate, a spiritual and cultural authority, announced darkly. "Whilst I am glad some provision has been made for scaling down this effect, this would still be considered by many a crime against the Mantle…"

"This is a very fair and well observed point, honoured Prelate, but my team and I have consulted on this matter with other experts, including the Haruspis council. Together, we have concluded that the risk posed by the Flood is too dangerous not to deploy our best available weaponry against, especially in the advent of a worst case scenario."

"High Haruspis, is this the case?" the Phylarch said, leadingly.

"It is indeed true that our council has been consulted, and deliberated on this fact beforehand. The ravages of the Flood we are already familiar with have themselves constituted a crime against the Mantle, and bode ill for the biodiversity of all recorded life. Given these circumstances, we argue in favour of the Master Builder's plan, with some guarantees on proper use…"

Faber nodded satisfactorily, pleased with the direction of the meeting. He already knew that the Phylarch had been key in arranging the discussions – covertly – with the Haruspis council, and in smoothing over their difficulties. The Phylarch had also been made aware of the alternate possibilities for the new weapon, in maintaining galactic supremacy.

"Speaking for the Lifeworkers in general, I find I have more severe reservations than my colleagues in the Haruspis council," the Librarian said, speaking up abruptly. "What is proposed here constitutes genocide – nay, mundicide – by most reasonable definitions."

"My dear Librarian," Faber said, trying not to sound obsequious. "You are of course aware from my presentation that such genocide is only potential, I repeat – _potential_ – in nature?"

"What you have proposed, Master Builder, is an all encompassing weapon that does not seem to discriminate, and will necessarily destroy multiple biospheres in order to achieve success. Even purging one solar system of life has a harrowing impact upon the fabric of Living-Time…" she continued passionately.

"And the Flood does not?" Faber replied irritably. "Be also aware, my respected councillors, of the number of systems destroyed every millennia by supernovas and electromagnetic instabilities, wiped clean by the powers latent to the galaxy itself. As upholders of the Mantle, we naturally have a duty to preserve the galaxy as best as we can, but with regard to existing practicalities…"

"And do we still uphold the Mantle if we purge the galaxy of much of the other life represented _within_ the Mantle?" the Librarian snapped angrily. "The council censured my husband for his use of dangerous weapons during his own campaign against the Flood – but now they propose the same approach on a much larger and devastating level than he ever suggested!"

 _Ah… she still holds a grudge, and carries the Didact's own, perhaps,_ Faber mused. _But has she overstepped?_

"If I may interject, Lifeshaper – what the Master Builder says is not unwarranted, given our traditional understanding of the Mantle," the Phylarch spoke resoundingly. "Left to our care, we, whose evolution is most advanced, must evaluate the state of the galaxy, and further its survival and upkeeping – as per the legacy we were entrusted with."

Faber heard affirmative words quietly echoing around the large chamber.

"Our _traditional_ understanding of the Mantle," the Librarian said agitatedly. "A tradition, that evolved from still _earlier_ traditions, and has seen us intervening on a larger and more frequent scale over the millennia, until we suddenly have the power of life and death over _all!_ I propose to this council that there are many who would not automatically agree with this… _traditional_ understanding!"

"NAME THEM!" a shout split the air.

"LET THEM POUR FORTH THEIR HERESIES IN THE OPEN!" another cried.

 _Such strongly held – and unspoken – views she has developed,_ Faber mused, before answering.

"COUNCILLORS – please! I must call us back to order, now, _quickly!_ I am aware of the import of what lies before us, and of the strong feelings it arouses in us all, at this bold juncture! Remember, that our ancestors knew that upholding the Mantle would never be an easy prospect, and knew they must be sufficiently prepared to wield such awesome responsibility. Left in trust by our progenitors, we have tried to abide by their examples for many generations, but there are some dilemmas precedent does not prepare us forth, even with the Domain. We have not had to confront a potentially extragalactic threat before, and in times such as these, we must rely on our judgement and ingenuity to see us through – _on the trust placed in us as a race!_ The Precursors choose us for good reason…" Faber finished, suddenly uneasy as he spoke his final words.

The crowd quieted into sombre silence, contemplative.

"Master Builder, you make a powerful and moving appeal. I ask the council once more to vote on the issues set before us: do we continue production on this weapon?" the Speaker urged.

The room remained quiet as electronic voting systems swung into action, tabulating the over five hundred votes swiftly, silently.

Minutes later, the results rang clear – this time, four hundred and ten in favour, and nearly a hundred opposed.

"The ayes have it – and the motion carries," the Speaker said with finality.

"Nevertheless, honoured Speaker, I speak for the Lifeworkers to uphold a major reprimand, and a wish to discuss our proper relation and participation in this project…" the Librarian said, subdued.

"This is so noted, but I move that this be a topic of discussion for another time – move to adjourn?"

This time, the vote was almost unanimous.

"Very well: then we adjourn…"

Faber reflected on how successful the debate had been going so far.

The council seemed largely in favour of continuing the project, although the Lifeworkers remained voluble critics even now, after several years. Eventually, an accord would have to be reached to secure their full cooperation, or at least prevent their obstructions.

The Didact had spoken briefly after being approached by the council on his opinions, and had been harshly critical:

" _My friends, after years of hard service upholding the defence of the Ecumene and the Mantle, I am not unacquainted with the hard decisions we as a species must sometimes make – and yet here I stand seeing us rushing headfirst into madness! Developing doomsday weapons and devising protocols for their genocidal use, in order to counter an unseen enemy we have not encountered for millennia, and of which most insisted had already been defeated! Whilst I do not speak lightly of the menace of the Flood, what we are proposing here threatens to spiral out of control – to bring forth abuses of power as yet un-conceived and perilously unpredictable! I must advise against this proposal – or at least to defer its development."_

 _Pretty predictable, really,_ Faber sighed, wondering if the years of semi-exile had begun to erode the old soldier's sanity already.

According to Shaper of Ashlar, the design of the new weapons array was not unsuited to additional modifications, including built-in laboratories and testing areas. _What if entire habitats could be implemented, and sufficiently shielded from the radiation effects? Hmm – an idea to ponder further, if practical…_ At least it might quiet the Librarian, and give her pause.

Faber watched the latest simulation display exactingly, but also appreciatively, as the ring-shaped weapons took on differing configurations within and around the galaxy: some formed a globe around a section of spiral arm, others penned in a small satellite galaxy, and finally a dozen took up radial positions, spaced equidistant around the galactic disk.

Their weapons fire spat forth, bathing the galaxy in vibrant white light of combined wavelengths, reaching even unto the galactic halo… illuminating it.

"Halo… yes… very descriptive," Faber murmured, moved to awe.


	5. Chapter 5

STRING 12

 _Earth calendar – estimated 101,700 BCE…_

The debates continued, long and heatedly, but Faber's ideas and Shaper's implementation of them found favour, and eventually the Librarian conceded that they might as well included habitat preserves in blueprints.

"Perhaps working so closely with alien life will reinforce for you its fragility and preciousness," she had mused poignantly.

 _How like a navel-gazing biologist, to sit pondering her specimens when the protection – and control – of the galaxy for perpetuity is now within our grasp…_ Faber had thought at the time.

Control would obviously be a major consideration going forward. First there had been the human incursion, and then the Flood. And, despite the long years, Faber had never fully forgotten his consultation with the human Yprin and the dark, somewhat unproven secrets she had expounded.

Faber had sent a team to Charum Hakkor, but they had not been particularly successful in locating any such 'prisoner', and had not wanted to be too conspicuous in their investigations, as Faber had emphasised. Yprin's last consultation on the matter provoked disgust and aversion to any discussion of the matter, and a claim to have tried to forget the technical details…

Meanwhile, great difficulty was being had by the engineering staff in the precision construction, and the deployment of, the new 'Halo' type weapon installations. Such massive constructs, wider than most inhabited planets, required immense amounts of energy to transit safely into, through and out of slipspace.

Forerunners had grappled with such problems before, and – during one of their largest periods of expansion – they had even devised a means of transporting small planets through slipspace to help develop their regional infrastructure.

Phased probability mirrors had served as one such tool, helping to stabilise the folding and stretching of four-dimensional spatial fabric and the distortions in causality that resulted – 'reconciliation', the process was called. Forerunner torsion beam generators were another tool working more directly upon spacetime, distorting _[tendex and vertex lines, according to 21_ _st_ _century Earth terminology – Compiler note]._ Threading of negative energy could hold apertures into slipspace open against the pressure of converging photons…

Such devices could also serve to create and maintain immense portals into slipspace, from a hundred to even thousands of kilometres across according to requirements – piercing dimensional membranes to shorten travel. Some portals could reputedly allow access into the Domain itself.

Whether a portal would ease their problems was as yet undecided. Each of the twelve 'Halos' had to be constructed using a huge amount of resources – raw matter and particles plucked from quantum foam; strips of rock and filigree alloys harvested from moons or planetoids, gas from nebulas… clearly a foundry site of some such was required.

Plans were drawn up for a huge structure – bigger than any single Halo – within which each could be safely assembled, one by one, and repaired at docking stations on widely spaced 'arms'. A portal could presumably be powered by generators built into the structure and storing power.

Concepts for somehow scaling down the huge weapons were periodically being considered, though with great scepticism.

Faber paged through various engineering proposals and amendments, looking for fresh and relevant data.

"Hmm – some interesting refinements here from: what was his name? Something… 'Makes-Eternal…' something: hmm."

Deciding that he was in need of more domestic stimulation, he elected to shelve the file for now, and look in on his youngest brood of growing sons, fresh from their recent educational sessions.

 _A house filling up with children… I do not think I envy the now quiet halls of the Didact and Librarian on Far Nomdagro,_ he mused wistfully.

Given how little the illustrious couple saw of each other, he wondered if they'd ever sire offspring again.

 _For that matter – I wonder if he will emerge from his obsessive devotion to his new duties long enough to confront me again?_

In time, the first great foundry was completed, a huge disk shape with docking arms. The development of the Halos sped onward, with smaller scale models being moved across space, and tested by firing largely harmless streams of neutrinos across remote star stellar voids.

More millennia of research sped by, and if there was any impatience from the council or other spheres of government, any reservations – they were soon quieted by the new era of technological development and prosperity brought to many citizens of the Ecumene – although denied the full picture.

Contentment bloomed – except from the Prometheans and their warrior ingénues – students, guards, contracted-security. Denied a real voice or purpose in the new order of things, the warrior rate began to grow restless and agitated, making first oblique and then ever more strident objections to the new weapons programs and the evolving Halo array.

Prosperous Builders and Miners began to grow nervous. Many remembered the ancient civil wars that had once split the Ecumene, the most recent of which being the Kradal conflicts some tens of thousands of years ago. Interpreting the increasing lack of formal communication from the Prometheans as a danger sign, measures were taken to further the marginalisation of their power.

 _Earth calendar – estimated 98,648 BCE…_

The Didact eventually returned to the inner worlds of the Ecumene, along with many subordinates such as the Examiner, the Confirmer and Sharp-by-Striking. They returned to a changed arena, where the rules were even less in their favour than before.

"See how Builder security now guards all the main approaches into the core systems, and maintains all the Jat-Krula artillery as well. We have been complacent, and their adzes are about to cleave our bedrock asunder, slice by slice," the Didact said darkly.

"We have been deployed a long time, with few compassionate leaves granted – but surely you overestimate the Builders' nerves?" Sharp asked anxiously.

"My young friend – when you get to our age, you will come to perceive political conflicts to be as nasty as any Flood or human battlefield," the Confirmer, an aging strategist, said wryly. "Somehow, the comfort and security of legally invested power can call forth such ruthlessness as to shame a warlord or brigand."

"Perhaps with the Builders, yes, but the others…"

"The Miners know they are bound to a profitable arrangement with the Builders, and will not choose to destabilise the situation casually. The Lifeworkers are struggling to hold onto some of their own projects without losing their influence, and have had to distance themselves ever further from me… from us," the Didact said bitterly. "Meanwhile, the Master Builder turns out new defence systems and variant shield worlds, new vessels and new armaments – not to mention his thrice cursed Halos… that we still don't know to be deployed or not!"

"Why do they get given such immense latitude – unprecedented in strategic construction projects? Are they still expecting the Flood to return?" the Examiner asked angrily.

"It almost doesn't matter now if they never do," the Didact replied heavily. "The project has assumed a prestige all on its own – as a status symbol. Recall also that the Ecumene council expends many resources on our fleets and garrisons, our research and development projects. If all that could be replaced by a perfectly coordinated, efficient weapon that can strike anywhere in the galaxy within moments…"

"Then our enemies would not long have to maintain any _pretence_ of tolerance for our requirements and demands," the Confirmer said knowingly.

"They would do that? Would they also purge whole sectors of the galaxy to maintain order?" Strike asked.

"Who knows what Faber will do – nobody reins him in any more. He always was very single-minded and driven…"

"I know that you have feuded with him a long time now, but he is rather persuasive…"

"You fear, perhaps, that I am influenced by my resentments and regrets, and lack further vision?"

"Never, Didact…" Sharp said hastily.

" _Such is the impetuosity of youth_ … perceiving yourself as on the bow-wave of a glorious future, surety of one's own immortality…"

"Ah… _to be young again!"_ the Confirmer said, sounding aged and doting. His humour was turning whimsical these days.

Perhaps he was also trying to defuse the tension between the Didact and the young commander before him, as Sharp glowered briefly, before standing back.

"Come – we are summoned once again," the Examiner said briskly.

"To be demobilised?" the Confirmer asked half-jokingly.

"To at least give account first…"

The council looked their way as they entered, but did not stand for them, as they strode to the middle platform. Moments later, all fell silent before the Speaker's oratory.

"Esteemed warriors of the Promethean order, you are summoned before us to give crucial testimony on your recent actions…"

The Didact rose up, all _(three and a half metres)_ of his imposing form, and spoke coolly:

"If this council has accusations to make of my brethren and myself, then they may state them forthwith, without preamble or distraction…"

"Very well – we have intelligence provided from far across the Ecumene of a breakdown of cooperation between Prometheans and Builder Security personnel. Recently, this breakdown has erupted into alarming and hardly anticipated developments: _we speak of mutiny!"_ the Speaker said icily.

" _Mutiny?!_ What fantastic indictment is this?" the Didact erupted.

"You remain unaware of these events?"

"You have not detailed them, so I cannot purposely answer you," the Didact growled irritably.

"Personnel attached to the Suppression Fleet began to question orders originating from the Builder Security Strategos. After several ultimatums, fighting broke out, and vessels broke from their assignments to unlawfully assemble. We may be looking at an armed conflict between vessels, across a whole sector! Insubordination unprecedented in millennia!" the Speaker expounded with mounting anger. The Didact set his shoulders tensely as he marshalled his response. His companions looked downcast.

"This council demands recompense and an end to this mounting crisis! For those reasons, we summon before an inquest, the overall commander of the Suppression Fleet – the Promethean known as the Confirmer…"

The older warrior – once, a mentor of sorts to the Didact – stepped forward warily.

"I stand before you, and will give account," he said, fighting to keep a steady voice.

"You have overall command of the personnel within the fleet, do you not?"

"I do, but I have devolved command to local flag officers to enact local strategy, in cooperation with the Strategos…"

"And you know all of these flag officers? Trusted subordinates, I presume?"

"I have personally vouched for many of them…"

"And how long ago was this, hmm?" the Phylarch interrupted. "Or do your memories start to fail you?"

"My memories are sharp enough to recall when you were a mere minor councillor, Phylarch…"

The room began to shift towards agitation and uproar. Hastily, the Didact intervened.

"NOBLE COUNCILLORS, I ask that we restore some semblance of civility here, before justice is perverted," he said loudly. "We hear of accusations against my colleague, but little in the way of solid proof or testimony. I urged that he be examined by his peers and with a properly invested tribunal to examine all the parties involved, and their culpability. I do not want the prospect of provocation to be overlooked at this juncture," he finished, tossing a supporting look to the Confirmer quickly.

"And so we move to new accusations, not yet detailed," the Phylarch said grimly. "Very well, Didact: I propose we withdraw and vote on the option and makeup of such a tribunal, and inquest – so that we may truly see justice done…"

The Didact's bold intervention secured the Confirmer some respite, but in the end, after weeks of debate the council's decision proved to be severe.

"Promethean known as the Confirmer – you are hereby stripped of command of the Suppression Fleet, and removed from the direct chain of command of military operations involving Builder Security. It is the further judgement of the court that you be reassigned to garrison duty in San'Shyuum space, with an appropriate level of military resources to be decided shortly."

"I abide by the judgment of the court," the Confirmer said, head dipping respectfully.

The defendant party strolled out, subdued. The Didact passed close to the seated Master Builder, located near the front of the assembly in the dimly lit court amphitheatre.

"Are you _satisfied_ now, Faber? Is your measure of blood taken? …No, I doubt that it is – that your interference will cease any time soon…" he rumbled furiously.

Hackles rose from many nearby councillors, but the Didact stepped back, and made his exit quietly.

The Confirmer was but the first of the Didact's supporters to be singled out and 'neutralised'. Dozens more followed over a two-hundred year period. Support and friendships for the Prometheans rapidly came to dry up as criticism after criticism was made…

…Until, finally, one close to the Didact crumbled.

Sharp-by-Striking had reflected much on his recent reversal of fortunes, and that of his rate in general. The benefits of defiance seemed increasingly fleeting and questionable.

Had he not personally voiced the prospect of the Didact being inflexible, and provocative – inflammatory in his private communications to colleagues and subordinates?

Agonisingly, he reflected on his knowledge and course of action – his family's prospects and future safety, and turned over the military report he had been tentatively typing out of late…


	6. Chapter 6

STRING 13

 _Earth calendar – estimated 98,450 BCE…_

Large contingents of Builder and Council security came for the Didact in one of his forward bases. A tense standoff unfolded until the Didact elected to stand down and surrender into custody for transport before the Ecumene Council – perhaps for the last time.

A dreadnought conveyed him to the Capital, and a restraint field enfolded him as a slipspace teleport deposited him near to the court chamber. A suspended bubble housing him was floated into the amphitheatre before an agitated crowd.

The Speaker was in his familiar place at his rostrum, whilst across in a private seat sat the Master Builder.

The crowd quieted as the Speaker prepared to speak.

"Shadow-of-Sundered-Star, also known as Didact – you have been accosted and brought here before this council to answer charges recently brought against you, over your conduct as Promethean forces commander."

The Speaker paused to allow his words to sink in. "In addition to several extant charges of dereliction of duty in restraining mutinous behaviour, it has also been revealed to this court that you initiated unauthorised construction of over a hundred Shield Worlds at positions on the frontier of Forerunner space, without alerting the government or requesting permission. How do you plead?"

" _How do I plead?"_ the Didact rumbled injuriously. "I recall _pleading_ to this council beforehand on the continuous persecution of my rate and corps by opportunistic Builders and Miners seeking to marginalise and _eliminate_ our voice in the Ecumene. I _plead_ that you recognise the growing danger and injustice these divisive politics are bringing upon us all, and the suspect behaviour driving it!"

"Such accusations, Didact," Faber said solemnly, remaining unperturbed. "Hints at skulduggery and betrayal – but insufficient to deflect attention from the internecine skirmishes that have broken out under _your_ watch! Brave and duty-bound Builder Security personnel slighted and then assaulted, numerous killed, by agitated and unwieldy Promethean savages!"

"Acts as are an affront against the Mantle!" the senior Haruspis said loudly and angrily: "Treachery and aggression, whilst you secretly prepare for war! A war against whom, Didact?"

"In times of great escalating peril, Prometheans _always_ prepare for war – it is, in fact, our _job_ : our agreed role within the Ecumene, to anticipate threats and to defend the rest of us," the Didact said levelly. He looked around the room, seeing the Prelate and the Auditor, both looking regretful. He took some comfort in that.

"In anticipating threats to our people, and the galaxy as a whole, we are bound to seek means to combat dire threats, and to ensure we are suitably equipped. If this requires additional fortifications, then so be it…"

"And is this to be your contribution in the event of Flood incursion, Didact?" Faber said wearily.

"That is a priority – but my warriors are also trained to prepare themselves for the possibility of _internal_ threats to the Ecumene – and the potential hijacking of powerful and dangerous new weapons authorised for construction that can tip the balance of power overnight…"

" _More accusations!_ Do you comprehend his gall?!" Faber replied, projecting hurt astonishment.

"I am naming no names, but the situation you are creating paves the way for invitations of abuse of power, on an unprecedented scale. Prometheans are honour-bound to consider pre-emptive counter-measures…"

"When they aren't murdering supposed _comrades_?" the Phylarch snapped bitterly.

"If you properly peruse the reports you have received, you will find the situation is no where near as simple as you have caste it," the Didact replied levelly, deciding to stick his neck out.

"What if we were to peruse these reports, and find evidence of your followers preparing an internal threat of their own?"

"You may search away…"

"In fact, we have a witness, straight from your own inner circle, Didact: stand forth, Sharp-by-Striking…"

The Didact whirled about as a light-beam caught a familiar figure standing and striding closer. A betrayed expression swept across his face.

"I am the Promethean known as Sharp-By-Striking, subordinate to the Didact's command for the past eight-thousand years," Sharp began nervously, not meeting his superior's eyes. "I have been witness to various decisions made by him over that period. Initially, these were driven by concern over the humans, and then the Flood. Lately, however, his attention is mostly consumed by the Master Builder and his Halo array of weapons. More and more he grows paranoid, and suspicious of alternate viewpoints. I tried to raise the issue with him numerous times, but he continuously deflected me…"

" _Numerous times_ , young stripling? I fear you do distort…"

"The accused will restrain himself from comment at this juncture," the Speaker said irritably.

"So noted," he rumbled.

"Sharp-by-Striking, can you inform us if any of the Didact's conduct was indicative of conspiracy and treasonous intent?"

"I – ah – the Didact discussed several times various 'contingencies' to be effected in the event of sudden reversals of fortunes – beyond that I have no clear indication…"

The council resumed uneasy murmuring, letting their imaginations play on the meagre evidence.

"If it pleases the court, I move that we begin perusing the files and recordings we have already collected as indicative evidence," the Master Builder announced, apropos of not very much.

"Councillors – do you confer?"

The results soon came in – clearly affirmative.

The Didact watched the various recordings, recognising several noteworthy scenes – and who the likely recording artist was. He glared at Sharp sourly.

Two hours passed as the council processed the evidence and deliberated, before approaching a verdict. The Speaker delivered it coldly and directly.

"Shadow-of-Sundered-Star – this court has brought before us their current verdict: although no clear-cut evidence of sedition and treason has been unearthed, there is much unsettling circumstantial evidence, and clear facts of inadequate control and oversight. Much of this crosses the line into insubordination.

"Included in this is your unauthorised development of new shield worlds and weapons research, unsupervised by any oversight or inspection.

"It is therefore the verdict of the council that you be either remanded into custody for incarceration, or sent into voluntary exile for a period of up to three millennia, details to be decided… how does the accused respond?"

The Didact lowered his head, gathering strength. He slowly raised it, and took in the faces of certain muted supporters, now largely intimidated into remission. His wife's plaintive eyes stood out clearly, sad and concealing icy rage.

"I stand in acknowledgement of your charges, and your power to pass sentence – but I do not concede the intent you import to them. For these reasons, I submit to voluntary exile, under certain conditions…"

In short order, the Didact concluded his statements, and prepared to be marched out of the room. He turned to Faber one last time as the escort closed in.

"I have been back to the frontier, Faber – and to Charum Hakkor. Have you? Ah – I see the first stirrings of alarm on that face…"

 _(Compiler's note: paraphrased from a court document and an official circular of the Promethean command rank)_

…Weeks later, the Didact was returned under escort to the planet of Far Nomdagro – the private estate of his family with the Librarian, and with several neighbouring warrior families.

Under supervised proceedings, he was allowed to retire to the private home he shared with his wife, and after a time, underwent surgical preparation for interment inside a Cryptum.

The Librarian arranged for its protection and support, before the sealing began. A large brass ovoid over a dozen metres across, the Cryptum shell contained devices for monitoring the Didact's vital signs, and keeping his body temperature down to hibernation levels, whilst his mental processes locked into suspension – the timeless, meditative state of _xankara_.

There, the Didact would be able to peacefully reflect on his past memories in a dreamlike, detached state as centuries passed.

Regretfully, using his connections established as a coordinator of Ecumene security, 05-032 Mendicant Bias observed the trial, sentencing and fulfilment of exile, feeling somewhat helpless.

His orders and hierarchy of loyalty protocols still applied and obliged him to abide by the requirements of interstellar security invoked for the case, but had not prevented him from putting in a plaintive word with the Master Builder.

"The record of his misconduct is clear and decisive, Contender. The mandate of law is compelling, and must be adhered to."

"He is my co-creator – and a distinguished career soldier…"

"Sometimes old soldiers do not know how to stop fighting old wars – or seek out new ones precipitously," Faber said patiently, with apparent regret. "The warriors of the past are not always able to confront the realities of new ages of prosperity."

"And what of my function?"

"Your orders and purpose remain as before – you will coordinate monitoring of the galactic boundary, but also oversee the refinements to the Halo Array as it enters the final development and testing stages. In this, you will be fulfilling the greater initial aims of the Didact when he commissioned your creation, so do not regret your change of fortunes… service to the Mantle continues to exonerate you."

As hundreds of years passed, the Librarian won out on her case to outfit the twelve Halo rings as preserves for both sentient and non-sentient sample populations. Research facilities both below and aboveground sprouted up, with extensive record centres within large bastions.

After ensuring this compromise, which had helped affect the severity of the Didact's sentencing, the Librarian began pushing for a research expedition to one of the dwarf galaxies orbiting the main spiral within which all known life dwelt. Respecting her past record and current standing, the Council did not find it in them to deny her.

In time, some seven-hundred years had transpired.

 _Earth calendar – estimated 97,752 BCE…_

The remote planet was officially listed as G617 g1 on official Forerunner charts, but to the comparatively small colony of about one million Forerunner eccentrics, artists and aesthetic communes, it was known as Seaward, in honour of its warm and pleasant oceans and the shore-side habitation the colonists favoured.

Little official contact was encouraged between the secluded outpost out near the galactic rim, and the rest of the Ecumene. Still, when even those links went silent, the need to investigate became a priority.

An armed exploratory force, the Primary Pioneer Group was dispatched into uncertain situations, with equipment comparable to Builder Security battalions. Equipped with speedy, agile small starships with the latest in sensor and reconnaissance systems, they were the often the first scout forces into strange situations that resisted easy categorisation.

The main vessel descended low over the planet, seeing nothing anomalous about the oceans, or much of the plant biomass. But strange movement patterns of body heat began to show up intermittently in various locales. Specialists on the team had difficulty interpreting these signatures – Seaward was not officially listed as possessing large herds or major predation. It did appear though, that some details may have been 'misfiled'.

After landing, a more detailed survey was begun, with regular reports transmitted back to base, relayed by orbital communications array.

All continued according to schedule, until abruptly the transmissions ceased. Once more, G617 g1 became a silent world.

Word eventually made its way to reconnaissance command hierarchy, who, after about a week's delay, filed a formal report:

… _Follow-up report from the Primary Pioneer Group (hereafter: PPG) is [173 hours] delinquent. Report [G617a~k/g/post_landfall] seemed most promising: a planet capable of supporting life located within the near border region of the [galactic halo] with no indigenous sentient species. The section indicating no fauna of any kind shall be considered anomalous until verified by Advance Survey Team-Alpha (hereafter: AST-A) team leader [##] If confirmed, that fact alone would justify the dispatch of an investigative group to [G617g]._

 _If neither the PPG or AST-A have delivered a follow-up report within the next [333 hours] this office will have no choice but to send a medium intensity military exploratory detachment to determine the exact nature of the previously mentioned delinquency._

"How was this information discovered?" the Auditor, espionage chief of the Ecumene, would come to ask, upon perusing the report.

"…Triangulation of devices. A trade beacon, a medical station, and a painter's jetbrush," the Prelate replied, who held many records on the establishment and history of Seaward.

"Are we spying on our citizens now?" the Auditor retorted.

"Not exactly... but there are measures in place to collate unusual observations: They're blind-checked by automatons, not intelligences. We only bubble such reports to the surface when a catastrophe or Xenovert expresses itself."

"That sounds like spying to me," said the Auditor morosely. _Xenoverts, hmm…_ He removed the floating report with a gesture. "What measures have been taken?"

The Prelate harrumphed and adjusted his clerical robe where it met his neck. "None – none beyond a resupply balloon for the damaged medical station… and this meeting."

The Prelate assumed a fearful demeanour. "Send word to the Didact. Our test has come."

"How do we reach him? He is likely still exiled, in a Cryptum, perhaps carefully secluded by now…"

"Still, we have to try: contact your friends among the Lifeworkers. We will likely have real need of him soon…"


	7. Chapter 7

STRING 14

 _Earth calendar – estimated 97,751 BCE…_

 _(Compiler note: assembled from personal correspondences and other files found on Onyx by ONIRF_ Trevelyan _teams)_

The Master Builder had received the news of the new Flood incursion shortly before his trip to his latest project – this was lucky, as he would soon have been out of ordinary contact once on-site.

The view around him seemed alike that of many an ordinary Forerunner world – terraformed, cultivated, with the same general landscapes of rolling hills and pleasant valleys often found on the ancestral homeworld of Ghibalb. The Ghihon valley remained particularly celebrated, and sensors' allowed Faber to observe this and other sites in detail from a distance – but to stand there in person was a more immediate, and stimulating prospect.

Only by panning one's head upward slowly would one detect unexpected sights upon the horizon – such as there not being one. Landscapes curved upward like a huge bowl, before fading into distant air and cloud layers. Further upward, a vivid sun shone down, bright and yellow – but marred by occasional shadows and lines. Further away, construction vessels floated over the inner surface and secured sections of landscape into lattices of frameworks. Some sections appeared entirely hollow.

Faber's latest project was a Shield World, but one quite unlike any others in recent history. Harkening back to ancient engineering concepts for megastructures past, the idea involved the complete entombing of a full-sized natural sun within an immense shell of metal lined on the inside with landscapes, bodies of water and sculptured rock, plus various infrastructure. Rather than scale down a sun into an artificial dish or suspended reactor device, this new construct took full advantage of all the radiated light, heat and power of a main-sequence star.

Conceived with the assistance of Shaper and Maker, the immense sphere _(Compiler note: a Dyson Sphere, not to be confused with a Dyson Shell)_ had been intended as a last redoubt, and a living preserve in the event of devastating conflict in the outside galaxy.

After several test concepts, work on Shield World 006 (with its own numbering system) was expedited in hushed secrecy centuries earlier, as an outgrowth of Builder research into portals and the propagation of the Halo effect. Faber remembered his earliest musings on the concept… A shield world much like the Didact's own designs, but far larger, and with an additional layer of protection. _If you can fire into slipspace, and transport planet-sized masses through it – with a little more work, you can suspend a whole world inside._ And not just in ordinary slipspace, but within subtended folds and creases hidden from easy detection.

"Impressive, isn't it. What is the estimated time to completion?" He asked a senior foreman.

"I do not think we will be ready for a good two more centuries yet, Master Builder," the man said deferentially. "Constructing within a slipspace bubble, and maintaining the link to the anchor-world, has restricted us to very delicate operations and precise manipulation work. If we could make use of more bulk transit portals directly into the interior…"

"That might compromise the secrecy of the project – something we cannot afford right now, with the latest news of the Flood's return," Faber said tersely. "This project must have your maximum priority foreman, understand? In the event of catastrophe, this must serve as a fallback position for our entire civilisation, as a hiding place, and a capital."

"One with Builder primacy, naturally…"

"Naturally… but confine yourself to relevant observations from hereon, foreman. Talk of intrigue is not seemly right now."

"Understood, my liege," the man replied, taking his leave.

Faber watched the work for another half an hour, and then established secure communications with Maker of Worlds – routed very circuitously via slipspace relays and vessel channels. The broadcast actually had a few seconds delay due to switching stations being involved.

"Maker, work continues apace on the Sharpened Shield, and I now have need of our military strategists. Inform them, and have then meet me at the Absolute Record. And summon the Contender as well. It is time that he fulfilled his original purpose…"

Days later, Faber rode aboard the _Solar Lathe_ to attend the gathering.

His destination – the Absolute Record – was housed in an isolated free-standing region of the galaxy, accessed by a portal buried within a gas giant. The site was an immense space-station rivalling the Capital for size, comprising various plates and rods aligned in a rough ball.

The Record served as a logistical and inventory centre for all Forerunner military assets, and much Builder projects besides. Various items were listed and kept track of across the galaxy in real-time – hence the 'absolute' nature of the record. Anything from a pre-planted 'design seed' waiting to unfurl its buried resources, to moored dreadnoughts, and even the rarely used Guardian punitive-constructs were itemised and tracked with precision.

 _Solar_ _Lathe_ entered via the portal, and moved within safe translocation range, allowing Faber to step onto a platform and be enfolded in yellow light. A strange jump in his consciousness broke his pattern of breathing for a second, before he re-materialised inside of the Record's main control module – itself larger than Faber's flagship. _(Compiler's note: forward this account to Operation Athena members pro-tem if they have yet to depart)_

Within a large conference room with real-time cartographer computer systems, Faber came into view of the various military and security commanders here gathered – including the Builder Strategos – a man a little too independently minded for his liking – and the Auditor, stood somewhat apart from the Logician, who often made use of the Record's services. He even saw the turncoat Promethean, Sharp-by-Striking, farther off from them.

Last to arrive was Maker-of-Worlds, who came in with his own escorts. The original co-architect of the Halo Array had been often ensconced in privacy whilst working on his redesigns. Lately, he had been very vocal about the issue of major slipspace disruption via moving about of the latest Halo structures – both assembled and not assembled. He said he had even had his daughter – a gifted designer in her own right – working on the problem, with ideas of her own. She contested that without miniaturisation of the weapons, such problems could worsen.

Faber had commissioned several test devices on a much smaller scale with generally similar designs. But for him, these were mere toys, and he nowadays grew irritated with Maker's need to cut-corners – or rather, radii.

"Greetings all – now that we are all assembled, I would like to discuss the situation in which we find ourselves…" Faber began solemnly – although not as much as the Didact had been prone to – _so often humourless and blunt as he could be…_

"The Flood has been detected spreading among our outlying frontier colonies in the adjacent outer spiral arm. So far they do not appear to have acquired many starships, although this could very quickly change, based on our analysis of their last incursion.

"We are mustering many of our assets from their Praetorian and Emergency Circumstances fleets, and need only to finalise our coordination procedure for their utilisation."

"Will this not present a few problems? Resources for fleet construction and restocking have been heavily diverted into other projects for a long time now," the Strategos said warningly. "Will we have sufficient ships?"

"Backed up by our newer strategic weaponry, I believe we make effective use of them," Faber replied.

"Should we deploy Guardians?" he asked.

"What? No – no, I do not think there is a need at this time: they can remain where they are as a line of defence for the inner worlds. They are not the most – stealthy – of weapons for this task."

(Compiler note: had analysts working on this, but they are mainly drawing blanks at present – some kind of super Sentinel maybe?)

"As for the overall issue of coordination, I have my own solution," Faber replied, casting his head up. "You may come forth among us, Mendicant Bias…"

A portal high above their heads discharged an ovoid metal shell, and the Contender-class intelligence descended gracefully. In form he still resembled many a Monitor shell – ancilla dedicated to operations oversight of many facilities and projects. Three blue eyes stood out prominently though. A glyph from the Forerunner symbology alphabet had now been set in between the eyes like a child's comedic scribble of a nose – but on closer inspection was revealed as a ring around broken circles with radial lines, symbolising a stylised zero numeral.

"Greetings to you all, honoured creators. I am Mendicant Bias, and I stand ready at your disposal. How may I serve?"

"Mendicant – we are discussing our strategy against the resurgent Flood threat. Are you familiar with the details?" Faber asked.

"Broadly speaking yes – but there remains much data to integrate and assess…"

"You may continue to do that in addition to your new duties. Major Forerunner fleets are to be combined and coordinated in retaliation to the threat, and your input is crucial to success."

"I will help however I can, Master…" the hovering ovoid said dutifully.

"Good – our strategy for the moment is containment and fortification. The Flood must be held at bay until we decide if we are ready to deploy one of the Halo weapons at a key juncture. Your experience from our last campaign is viewed as crucial to our timing and selection of targets. Yours duties may be subject to rapid change as a result. Will this be a problem?"

Bias hovered, tilted his body slightly, before replying: "I do not believe so. I hope not to be too overwhelmed by external stimuli, as this can adversely affect computational speeds…"

"You will, of course, have access to a full staff of assistants, including sub-metarchs and lesser ancillas. But your work must commence right away."

"Understood, Master…"

"Excellent – my friends, we have our strategy, and we have many capable tacticians here and elsewhere ready to contribute. The Flood will be routed and destroyed – perhaps more thoroughly even than last time…"

The Master Builder's optimism became decidedly strained after a while, as pitched battle after pitched battle erupted.

Strategically, the plan was a sound one, allowing them to make use of old tactics and fortifications, along with newly erected ones. But this time the Flood seemed to react with greater speed and daring than they ever had before. The scale of infection also seemed to be getting wider than precedent had for-shown.

The Jat-Krula expanded once again – having fallen into misuse in many sectors in the intervening millennia. A cordon struggled to spring up around the effected region, but the assembly staff had increasing difficulty in keeping pace with the Flood's movements – now sweeping across major transit routes.

The Master Builder observed the latest incursion via remote link as a swarm of dozens of Flood-occupied vessels emerged from Slipspace in readiness either to change course of to stoop down upon a vulnerable nearby planet.

Within a minute though, a glowing rent appeared beyond the fleet, followed by several more. None were especially large, but the streams of blue energy that poured through the rents from Slipspace were vibrant and torrential.

Elongated bolts of energy hammered the Flood fleet like rainstorm, withering shields and perforating hulls in mere instants. Seconds later, the vessels were either adrift or shattering into trails of wayward debris.

"Cease fire! Excellent – pass on my regard to the line installation regional commander and their staff. We are clearly making great progress!"

"I am not so sure myself, Master," Mendicant Bias said dolefully, from his airborne position a dozen metres away to the right. "It seems that for every Flood flotilla we locate and destroy in transit, at least one more slips further towards the inner systems."

"Then we merely need to hold for a bit more time, before our combined strategic arms have the desired affect. Speaking of which, what is the status of the overall Array?"

Mendicant slowly drifted over, his eyes flashing in time with his speech: "Ten of the Halos have undergone significant field tests, but there are still significant problems affecting two of them. Only six are particularly mobile, and only two of those have received the latest defence systems you approved."

"Too slow – too slow! How many more defence revisions and approval processes are to be needed before we can even effectively deploy the blasted things!"

 _And how many of those defence revisions and approvals were the result of policies agreed between yourself and your many Builder allies?_ Mendicant reflected internally. Long time in storage, and closeted assignments punctuated by additional waiting, had led him to develop an acute inner monologue lately – an interesting novelty for an artificial intelligence like himself. "As it is clearly within your purview to do so, would it not be expedient to begin amending many of those processes prior to the next tests?" he asked Faber searchingly.

The Master Builder turned on him with a flared and piercing expression: "Clearly you have little familiarity with Builder bureaucracy, my synthetic friend – or the long built habits of entangled alliances I have come to depend on…

"Still, your point is well made, and I will see if I can streamline the process. Tell me, Contender – do you grow reckless?"

"My process and protocols remain highly primed and organised into an expectant combative state, of a certain," Mendicant said meekly. "I have reviewed all my old memory files on my old encounters with the Flood, and I feel the need to – to conclude unfinished business, I believe is the appropriate term. I am also moved to remember a promise I once made in trust…"

"Oh? To whom did you make that?" the Master Builder said, suddenly a little wary.

"It was to the voice of the Domain, long ago…"

"…The voice? Oh… the collective voice, I suppose…"

"You wish clarification?"

"No, not currently: I have simply been… too preoccupied to commune with the Domain in a very long time. My wives occasional speak of reflective experiences. Was this promise engendered or asked of you?"

"Not at all, Master: I simply pledged that I would attempt to rectify the cause of the pain and grief that was spreading throughout the Domain at the behest of the Flood's actions…"

"Pain… grief… perhaps anger too, yes…" the old Builder said slowly, suddenly deep in thought.

"Would you like to be left alone to ponder this?"

"Hmm? Yes… yes, I shall. But do not be perturbed, Contender: you will soon have the opportunity to contend with our foe… by one way or another…"

 _Earth calendar – estimated 97,546 BCE…_

Despite Faber's promise, Mendicant Bias was kept very busy on a variety of tasks for another century, as the situation rapidly changed.

The Ecumene council was now very hard-pressed to keep the situation secret from the inner Forerunner worlds. The official story spoke of a crisis brought about by a stellar-radiation crisis that was causing mutations and isolated famine in a major cluster within the affected region. Hints of unrest and police action had also been funnelled back to the major worlds, though with no hint as deployment of Guardians or other specialised tactical units.

The story had held for over two centuries by the time Mendicant was finally deployed deep into the region alongside a Halo undergoing deep-range tests.

Various battles were being observed at far remove to provide up to date information on Flood combat tactics. Many of these were now unfolding on several very highly developed worlds. One such was igniting around a major forward research station near the fortified border…


	8. Chapter 8

STRING 15

 _Forerunner research and defence complex, on planet designated DM-2-5929 c:_

Flood dispersal pods rained from the sky like putrid meteors over the central city annexe of the besieged Forerunner world. Mechanised, flying robots know as Sentinels fitted by in vast swarms overhead, their particle beams lashing down yellow streaks at the hordes of Flood infection forms swarming toward the barricades. Amongst the whelk-like parasites were growing numbers of Flood combat forms – converted scientists and soldiers of the Ecumene, now turned to evil purposes as cannon-fodder…

The sight would be one to stir fear in the heart of many a warrior, and this fear did not escape the heart of Filial-Devotion – the shortened name he went by. Still, despite it all, he clung to his courage, banking it like a fire with resolve and finely-tuned vengeance against the despised enemy.

A young and fairly short Forerunner, Filial was clad in the ornate golden armour of Forerunner Builder security, complete with a helmet carved with the flattened face of a bird above his bat-wing-shaped jet-black visor. The outspoken young male within had defied much to get out into the military and engage the growing threat rumours had borne to him – that called him to defence of his people… his galaxy.

He remembered his strained words with his father, and the message he had sent following their tense parting:

"It is impossible to plan for the now – the present is ever fleeting. The future is where we must live – the future is what we must plan for. I do not look to trade my life in order to preserve our past, but to secure the future – and if not ours, then the future of some ecumene yet to come.

Isn't sacrifice in the interest of others what you always spoke of as being so noble? Should I have allowed another to bloody his hands while I remained safe behind a shield of privilege? You raised me better than that…"

The words had been well-rehearsed and well spoken, but they did not dispel the hurt and pain he saw in his father's eyes that day.

Now, as the horrendous fighting wore on, he found himself focusing on those eyes more, and of his carers.

Filial-Devotion raised his rifle and poured fire into the nearest of the slithering infection-forms, liquefying them. He cast a pulse grenade into the mix, watching as the faceted shell burst and released an orange waveform of destructive radiation, which caught two combat forms unaware. They fell in the wake of the burst, scorched and desiccated.

Behind them, the massive research centre loomed, an immense structure shaped like a very wide flattened cone, braced by four buttresses rising high above a central aperture at the apex. The whole edifice stretched nearly twelve kilometres in diameter, and was breezily and irreverently described as a 'library' by many of the combatants. Most were Builder Security, but scattered among them, here and there, were a number of the heavily discommended Promethean warriors.

A few kilometres away, a tentacle, blubbery mass of Flood biomass lay, slowly advancing behind its hoard of minions. Overhead, aircraft and Sentinels gathered and made strafing runs.

"Move to engage…" Filial informed his squad, and began to run.

The fighting had been going on for about three days now, and Filial and his other comrades had been sustained by the reticular-system implants connecting their brain-stems to the life-sustaining systems of their combat-skins – slender but powerful armour suits. Myoelectric circuits within boosted the speed and strength of their muscles and nervous systems, and endorphin-injectors provided easement to combat stress…

But any complex organic was able to adapt over time to new stimulation – and under continual stress and anxiety of combat, the effect of their chemical aids could wear thin eventually. Even with the implant boosting Filial's concentration and overall awareness, every warrior was felt to have their limit – he only hoped it wasn't too close yet…

Filial noted slow-moving aircraft passing by overhead and commencing strafing runs with hard-light and missiles – Z-1800 'weapon-ships' – remotely-controlled drones to aid the Promethean soldiers on the surface. Blunt metal hulls pivoted on loosely-connected vertical-take-off engines, one each side. The aircraft were few and dwindling in number – even now, one lurched across the sky after a spore-launcher spattered it with a sludgy, corroding substance.

"Go for the Pure-forms!" Filial ordered, and began taking shots, whilst subordinates let rip with Z-130 suppressors or other side-arms. Beyond the mob of savage combat-forms, he could see large spore-launchers – grown from second-generation Flood biomass that had become self-sustaining, and fashioned into structures not dependent on victims to support them chemically. Other pure-forms – smaller and four-legged – vomited sharp spikes of hardened calcium toward any soldiers bold enough to get too close...

They ran across the field, dodging and ducking between enemy fire: Filial raised his arm-mounted hard-light shield and activated it, blocking various spike projectiles and lightrifle fire, some of which pinged off like sleeting rain.

Filial saw three comrades fall, pierced by multiple spikes. The projectiles would probably not have been fatal all at once, but the volley of other weapons fire that followed them cut down all three of the wounded soldiers.

Drawing closer, he ordered the survivors to deploy autosentries from their armour – hovering weapon turrets with targeting sensors and a mind to process and select among target data. Although slow to fire, the sentries were able to hold some combat and pure-forms at bay. More Sentinels flitted overhead, lashing down with blue energy beams – with mixed success.

Finally, Filial drew within range of the large spore-launchers, and let loose with tossed grenades and repeated rifle fire. For most part, the rubbery masses shrugged off his attack.

"Move up! We need to concentrate fire – bring heavy weapons!"

He fought to hold his position as more combat forms surged in toward them. As his shots brought a bulbous carrier-form to its knees, a tossed splinter grenade from a cohort landed beside the monster and erupted – vaporising many of the parasite spores that exploded out of the kneeling creature.

"We're making an opening – concentrate your fire!"

More subordinates ran up behind him – several hauling Z-390 incineration cannons upon their shoulders. The bulky, broad barrelled weapons fired powerful streams of positron particles – raw antimatter confined in a carrier wave – that reacted explosively with matter within a target. The reversed charge couplings in the positrons reacted intensely with the positive electrical targets of ordinary protons and ions – releasing pure unbound energy from the interaction.

When the cannons fired, the projectiles struck and buried into several of the spore-launchers. The sudden release of energy stored in their bound particles erupted in a white-hot thermal explosion.

Icky, scorched pieces of Flood biomass rained down among them, landing on shields and armour. It would have been a grotesque occurrence if they weren't greeting the event with boisterous cheers of triumph.

Gradually, the Flood defensive lines began to fall away, and heavier vehicles and artillery began to move in. War Sphinxes and the new, unadorned Seekers swept in at high speed to destroy more concentrations of Flood. Then even larger constructs went on the move.

Escorted by much smaller Gatherer-type sentinels (small being a comparative word) a huge 'super-sentinel' – over a kilometre in length – hovered overhead. Four broad but simple arms surrounded an oblong metal body, whilst smaller manipulation limbs dangled below. As it moved up, escorted by seekers and Guardian sentinels (smaller, modern versions of the Guardian constructs deployed as system interdiction craft) the arms elevated up into outthrust positions, as if to clutch onto the spore-mountains and other nightmarish tentacle-d conglomerates of Flood.

Abruptly, an intense yellow energy spiked between the arms, before discharging into the heart of the enemy. The beam impacted a large spore-mountain, before spreading to bathe the whole region for nearly a kilometre around it. In moments, the region was scorched, and a cloud of vaporised bio-matter rose as dust into the ionised air above.

The bombardment marked the beginning of the end for the battle, but even then, Filial was pained to see a squad of Builder security cut off from their comrades upon the top of a research building, fighting back intensely – but far too slowly – with their ornate slicing beam pistols, an eccentric but precision weapon often used a sidearm. The gun was designed for carving into dense metal or Flood biomass to reach the heart of a hive, with guided beams flowing through a projected guidance-field before splitting into a shape. Although the pistols trimmed back a number of Flood combat forms, the growing mass that had concentrated there away from main battle-zone came to overwhelm and consume them…

Soon enough, an intense aerial bombardment by Seeker aircraft had to destroy the complex, turning the metal into molten rivulets which hardened into a glass-like silicate. Nothing was left alive thereafter – neither Flood nor Forerunner.

And so the battle was – narrowly – won.

Mendicant Bias observed the entire battle via feeds delivered by both the Auditor's intelligence channels and via the still intact connections to the Domain there present, and reflected on the tactics employed. After a time, he prepared his report to the Strategos – and through him, to the Master Builder.

"There are definitely some highly skilled and experienced officers among the survivors, who made very effective use of their military hardware," Mendicant dictated, actively working on and amending the report before its dispatch. "It is my considered opinion that they would be very welcome participants in the deep-range voyage we have discussed and proposed. I wish to subject them to further evaluative screening in other actions, along with several other candidates…"

 _Earth calendar – estimated 97,505 BCE…_

"Well… I have read through your reports, and given my own conclusions – and I see you are more insistent than ever that you be deployed quickly…" the Master Builder said quietly. "I have previously advised you that we cannot guarantee your safe passage beyond the Jat Krula perimeter…"

"Your engineers have greatly enhanced the range and coverage of the perimeter weapons arrays, and your ships have been quick to response in engaging and distracting Flood battle groups…"

"Actually – we are beginning to encounter problems. Since the test deployment of the Halos, slipspace transit has become erratic for many vessels, and attempts at coordination are no longer as predictable as they are…"

"As always then, there are risks and unplanned factors. But considering the current strategic situation, is it wise to delay any longer, Master?"

"The Librarian is pushing for more support for her Indexation project, to try to remove samples of threatened populations before they are all assimilated into the Flood gestalt. This has impeded some of my own proposals, but for Lifeworkers, the situation remains tenable, for the moment. The Jat-Krula line has had to shrink significantly in the last century of operations, however, so…"

"And so we risk being overwhelmed. Was it not your and the Didact's proposal long ago that someone – 'go for the jugular', I believe is an apt expression?"

"Do not forget that we have the Halos now, however…"

"And an ever widening target for them to be employed against; at very least, if we can bring about another contraction in self-defence from our forays…"

"…Very well Contender: you are most persistent, and you have convinced me. Soon now, a Halo will be equipped and ready to deploy behind your fleet, once you have finished assembling it. My forces will clear you a path and watch out for you from afar. In the event of capture, our ships that are connected to the plan will self-destruct as a priority. I must admit, I am eager to see if you can pull off the same trick as before, but on a larger scale…

Mendicant bowed in midair, a simulacrum of courtesy – privately, he had been getting rather annoyed of late – and teleported out of the chamber.


	9. Chapter 9

STRING 16

 _Earth calendar – estimated 97,499 BCE…_

In due course, an armada considered to be only moderate in scale by Forerunner standards – but very well equipped by its occupants – departed from the inner regions of the defensive zone, and set course out into the galactic hinterland.

The voyage was to be a slow and methodical trawl around the galactic disc out toward the ends of some of the spiral arms, moving as unobtrusively as possible – so as to try to catch the Flood forces in the midst of new co-ordinations, and so track back their signals to the source. Already, the parasite had spread beyond two spiral arms, and was continually prodding and forcing its way inward towards the inner portions of the galactic, and the hub of Forerunner space. Beyond the (Orion nebular region) further worlds stretched back towards the inner arms – but only up to the point radiation from the galactic core began to become hazardous. Despite that, it was itself a vast region, and the trajectory of the fleet would trace one vaster still.

Dreadnoughts, heavy cruisers and fast frigates raced ahead to clear the way, sometimes separating into wings and squadrons so as not to draw overmuch attention. Further back were old Fortress-class command vessels, and repurposed dreadnoughts termed Core-ships – which served as command and control vessels and loci for sub-Metarchs and other ancilla. Mendicant Bias had distributed himself across a number of them, so as oversee multiple portions of the fleet and its mission.

Back near the Jat-Krula defensive sphere rested a still more powerful vessel – larger and more dangerous than the rest of the fleet combined: an immense artificial ring, terraced with small continents and seas confined by walls to the band – a Halo.

Over half a decade of refinement and reequipping, along with the careful redistribution of forces piecemeal, had preceded the grand expedition now to take place, and all involved were under considerable pressure. So was the overall commander, although he didn't exactly feel it, nor react in any particular way.

Elegant and precise algorithms digested data and decoded military codes, assessed situations and ensured proper coordination. Mendicant was now running to full capacity, and in many ways was greatly enthusiastic to be finally fulfilling his purpose, and to the heights of his built-in abilities. Distributing his processes across a network was helping him to avoid logjams and other pile-ups, and his 'mind' remained keen and sharp as it was when he were newborn.

Finally, the vessels of his last recruits jumped into the staging area, cruisers escorting further dreadnoughts. Among the crew were the Builder soldiers he had recently observed, along with a few Prometheans, stripped of most accolades and decoration, but still determined to contribute to the fight. This 'Filial Devotion', for instance, had displayed impressive fortitude and initiative, and would be a useful force-multiplying asset.

Mendicant reflected ruefully on another factor – that the mission was to be of long duration, and with a likely high mortality rate for its personnel. They would also be acting apart from much of the combatants struggling and dying on besieged worlds for much of that time – indicating mounting issues with crew morale.

Mendicant resolved to run bonding exercises and maintain the artificial habitats inboard his craft to the best of his available resources. Doubtless vacationing on a Halo would be restful for many, but he was not authorised to reveal the weapon until he had located a likely target.

"Forerunners – Builders, Warriors, technicians and more – welcome to my fleet: I am 05-032 Mendicant Bias, Contender-class AI and your overall commander for this operation. Please report to fleet section commanders to verify your local assignment details. We depart in under an hour…"

Soon enough, the armada began its voyage, slipping out of normal space on a cautious leapfrog out between galactic spiral arms, ready to confront its destiny – whatever that may be.

The initial phase of the operation lasted the better part of a year as they tested their ability to move unhindered – and, generally, unobserved – whilst maintaining contact with other tactical forces. They left the Jat-Krula sphere behind quickly, and tasked reconnaissance craft to spy out Flood positions carefully. The duty was often routine, but with another of an edge to keep most personnel sharp and focused.

In the second year, Mendicant had to rely upon his morale-boosting techniques increasingly. He also observed where appropriate the general attitude of the fleet, including how everyone viewed their commander. He was seen as clever but sometimes methodical, and generally cold but trying to convey otherwise. He could tell he held their respect though.

In addition, he had time to parse the information about the Lifeworker's Conservation Measure – the project spearheaded by the Librarian, who had conceived of various contingencies following her return from her expedition beyond the galactic rim. Mendicant could already see the military situation growing more precarious, and with it, the mission of the Lifeworkers.

" _Considering the enemy intelligence's raw cognitive power, the Keyships' strategy will only remain viable for another 657,000 hours and this current stalemate has the potential to last considerably longer than that._

" _With my understanding of the enemy's modus operandi, its logical boundaries, and Catalog of witnesses, I have devised what I believe is our most sound fall-back strategy. By introducing 'burns' into the core worlds' outer volume we would be able to frustrate the enemy's advances for approximately 70,080 hours and lure them into costly naval battles. While its resources on the ground are effectively limitless, it has a finite number of vessels to spread from system to system. Fortunately the majority of them are unarmed and unarmored, private and commercial craft._

" _If we start immediately – commence total biosphere elimination of life sustaining worlds (as indicated in the accompanying charts) and relocate evacuated populations to facilities such as those described in the Sharpened Shield proposal – all this could be achieved in 57,1590 (+/-2,184) hours."_

The proposal was forwarded to the Master Builder and the Strategos, with additional supporting data. The 'burns' would be regions of formerly inhabitable worlds bombarded from orbit to deny assets and usable biomass to the Flood prior to its arrival – firebreaks in the path of the blaze, effectively. The hope was that all extractable sentient life could be removed beforehand. Mendicant was also making up for a shortfall in testimony available from the Domain – now acting increasingly erratic – via testimony gathered by the Catalog department. This was a group of cybernetic-ally enhanced Forerunners specialising in legal and bureaucratic information gathering, which – whilst dry and formal – was still a rich source.

In time, they were able to gain firsthand knowledge of major engagements beyond the core regions…

Filial Devotion observed the reports as they began their outbound path from the planet once clinically designated as LP 656-38 e. A group of survivors had barricaded themselves within a bunker, hoping to withstand the massed horde of Flood outside until some kind of aid arrived…

That aid had not been offered – the fleet had stayed its hand and declined to expose any of its assets.

Filial had told himself that the fleet tactical algorithms had clearly revealed the futility of investment in the mission – there would have been no feasible way of penetrating the Flood siege without severe loss of personnel, for slim chance of effecting rescue.

But seeing the visual feeds and audio logs of the survivors had robbed him of much of that objectivity others prized. Even when the images were broken and cut short, the sounds ensured he was unlikely to sleep very soundly tonight. He debated prepping his armour systems to soothe his cortex whilst reclining, but decided against it – the dead here deserved some reflection on their fate, and their courage beforehand.

The voyage continued for another four years, and as time went on, they were witness to more and more foul deeds of the enemy.

The once heavily populated planet designated DMC-3-1123 b had been under extended siege for over a day, against a growing number of Flood-controlled commercial craft penetrating orbital lines so as to make landfall. Already, great sprawls of infection spread like mould or fungus across the forests and oceans, and by the time any fleet vessels entered the outer system, the commanders on the ground were advising firebombing continents, if not the overall atmosphere.

Some one-point-three million civilians and much smaller military escort had been able to effect a breakaway evacuation, and Filial's vessel was among those despatched to aid their escape. He sourly wondered if this was a calculated act on Mendicant Bias' part, similar to his 'morale-building exercises' of earlier…

 _Stay yourself – he may be only a synthetic being, but he has lived and worked among organics for longer than my lifetime, and has been tasked with an exceedingly high responsibility by any accounts…_ Filial chastised himself. He did wonder how the ancilla was supposed to engender the kind of fierce loyalty he had seen among the Prometheans and some of his own comrades though.

His attempts to ease his feelings were derailed as he saw the planet burning below him hours later though. The refugees were escorted clear of the system to be handed over to another fleet for protection – hopefully to safely rendezvous and reach civilisation. They constituted only .0006 percent of the original population – from a once major hub world for trade and government out here.

Rather than a plummet in morale thereafter though, the soldiers across the fleet stiffened their resolved and focus even further, directed toward an end to the harrowing war they found themselves engulfed in…

Mendicant was decidedly heartened by their response, and began taxing his running time and processes in imitation of their fervour, seeking to expose the Flood blueprint of their expansion. He filed a glowing report once a lull permitted.

" _29,478 hours have passed since I left the Jat-Krula sphere and entered contested space. The enemy is everywhere. Despite this the morale of my charges remains high. They wake, clean themselves, fuel their bodies, communicate with one another, eliminate waste, train to destroy the enemy, and return to sleep."_

" _The sacrifices they have chosen to make on behalf of their brethren fills me with pride. If only I could save them all - but they know, perhaps even better than I, that that is not possible…"_

Mendicant found he had grown accustomed to their presence, their banter and attitudes – like a man growing up next to a bustling school, or the familiar tick of a baroque chronometer heard through a house – the impact on his processes was much alike.

Months later, fresh distress calls split the ebon night asunder – whence from another major population centre.

Charted as CE-10-2165, the system was the most remote of the Forerunner colonies they had yet visited, lying within former human space far out along the spiral arm that housed the Orion nebular region – which lay much toward the other extremity. The fourth planet was apparently facing imminent consumption by their foe.

The battle fleet sent in probes, then recon vessels with bafflers and active camouflage, to observe what was clearly becoming a deterioration of the local situation.

Panicked communications shot forth across the inter-system ether of early dust and gases from which worlds had long past congealed. Cries for help soon passing into laments of despair: it seemed likely the fleet would once again be too late to lend meaningful aid, and Mendicant's mind flickered jarringly between anger and despair.

For all of his formidable processes and unique design, his network was still not able to adapt fast enough to the challenges of winning this war – his mind was not vast enough, his thoughts not fast enough. The thought brought on something akin to melancholia – as organics termed it.

His higher processes then began reprioritising themselves, forcefully reminding him that he was not running the entire war by himself, and that he had a specific duty assigned him to try to bring about a total endgame to the conflict… still, the powerful and lasting emotional response seemed to leave him changed, maybe even shaken. An awareness of powerlessness, limitations, and nascent desire for expansion…

Quickly, he shunted this aside and began collecting data from surviving orbital satellites and communications buffers, logs of the battle, in an attempt to gleam understanding of the fate that now beset the reeling world ahead of them, and whether some wile may have averted this.

Filial again took in conflagration spreading on another world, his mood now sunk so low that his armour automatically administered endorphins and chemical stabilisers so as to avert illness and other side effects. All personnel had lately been advised to remain in full armour when in a combat theatre. Fighting so often on the frontlines – at least, before this macabre sightseeing tour – he had grown aware of how cosseted and isolated from exterior hardship – perhaps, nature in general – so many of his species were accustomed to being.

Gloom gave way to anger as he contemplated the aloofness and reticence of the Ecumene council – the reluctance to the dirty their hands. He also remembered one member in particular – his father – and fought to remember his kind words and gentle admonishments. Perhaps, even now, he joined the fight in his own way? Communication back home was nearly non-existent now.

 _I wonder if any messages made it off this world, to far distant kin, pleading remembrance?_

Days passed, before the fleet moved beyond the system, having gathered all of the knowledge that it could…

Mendicant compiled what he had learned, and made a tactical assessment for his official logs:

 _14\. "Thirty-seven seconds ago I moved beyond my ability to observe the events taking place on CE-10-2165-d. The importance of my mission forbade me from rendering any aid, but no less important was the need for me to study the enemy's capabilities in real world situations._

 _15\. Two hours ago 12,423 small recreational vessels appeared inside CE-10-2165-d's orbital perimeter. Hidden within that vast swarm were seven massive freight carriers. The smaller craft were employed as ablative armour, allowing the carriers to descend through the atmosphere; landing on top of major population centres._

 _16\. Despite the fact that the naval garrison was aware of the likelihood of just such an attack, their ability to effectively defend_

 _against it proved insufficient. This has always been the enemy's operating principle: Flood your opponent's ability to process_

 _information with so much noise that no meaningful resistance_

 _can be put into action._

 _17\. Three minutes ago those same population centres began disappearing under brilliant flashes. This was not an ill-conceived, poorly implemented counter attack; it was a_ _deliberate denial of resources - those resources being the remainder of CE-10-2165-d's population."_

Mendicant paused and offered up a formal observance in memorial of the deceased, uploading it towards the Domain as he had been instructed by the Didact's programming long ago.

The channels remained sluggish though, with all the traffic passing through it on the way to the seemingly endless war – not to mention the huge mass shadows of the Halo weapons stretching the 'bulk' of the dimensional matrices. Large objects left their own gravity traces which could bleed between dimensions like water through [blotting paper].

This time, there was no real signal that his benediction had been acknowledged, and Mendicant's dark mood began to return. A dark cloud seemed to pass across his lines of photonic signal traffic.

"Is this the noble sacrifice my creators spoke of? Where is the nobility in these streets paved with greasy carbon and dun ash?"

Mendicant paused – infinitesimally for an organic, but much longer for a machine mind – and processed his outburst again, as if hearing it afresh.

He had been simulating much of the emotion, so as to help him process the grief of the battle and the weight of the sacrifices, and was offering this as content into the Domain at the time. But such new thoughts as these he had not intended to broadcast, nor had he incorporated such poetic terms.

 _My mouth is speaking at another's behest?_

He examined both his processes, and then turned his focus outward to various fleet channels.

"That is NOT my voice; that is the…" (He again examined the data streaming amidst the fleet) "…Other."

… _Another network? Or simply a powerful impression?_

Mendicant spent the next hour examining all of the recent communications traffic across their recent route around the galactic rim, and waiting until he found a similar echo.

"Its voice stands out as the single calm note in the panicked cacophony outside the sphere. It alone is not decrying its fate or raging against the Ecumene council.

"This anomaly bears closer examination."

Mendicant ending his log recording, leaving his words to be captured and stored for others to ponder at some future date…

For now, he entered new navigation data, and sent the fleet on a new trajectory, further outward, toward the galactic edge…


	10. Chapter 10

STRING 17

 _Earth calendar – estimated 97,495 BCE…_

 _(Compiler's note: And so, we now arrive at the critical part of the entire document, in these following data strings, as we learn more of the role both Mendicant Bias and the Master Builder played during the fateful encounter at the Charum Hakkor system. This particular string was the most difficult of all to locate, but once we knew where to look, this was quickly pushed to the surface, as if the system was somehow helping us, working to bring this to light. I know this is not a particularly popular subject with Naval Intelligence at late – considering the recent Project Spartan debate – but this did give all of us involved a moment of unexpected contemplation. Now, without further ado, I will continue…)_

Mendicant kept track of their progress over the following days, noting their progress through the old human Empire, past former settled worlds, border colonies – and finally out to the Hakkor system, the old capital of the empire. _Could something still live out here, among the old Precursor ruins?_

The star system had a number of rocky planets, most uninhabited, such as Sothra Hakkor, whilst Faun Hakkor still held much animal and plant life.

Charum Hakkor itself had been heavily blasted during the war, damaging many of the lesser Precursor structures, and flattening most human ones – laid low by orbital fire; drifting orbital 'arches' lay haphazardly in orbit, still largely intact through a million years or more.

The signal Mendicant followed seemed to lead them directly to the ancient planet itself, and he elected to bring in his principle 'core ship' with a respectable escort to make a closer inspection.

He broadcast an encrypted message via special channel to his command centre – to the Master Builder – alerting him of a possible find, and began the voyage insystem.

The ships moved in swiftly, soon detecting immense structures in orbit – filaments and orbital 'bridges', silk-like connecting strands, solar mirrors of archaic design, and more – all left generally untouched except for some light and careful examination by Builders and theoreticians millennia ago. All were quiet, dormant – and yet, a signal appeared to emanate from somewhere close by.

Most likely the signal originated somewhere on the surface itself, perhaps at one of the major cities once claimed by human populations. These in turn, had been constructed close to ancient adamantine structures – all that remained of likely Precursor habitation. These in turn, appeared sparse and few in number, leading many to conjecture that the Precursors dwelt deep underground for the most part…

 _Hmm, underground…_ Mendicant brought up reports made by the Didact and others during and after the human wars, on various local infrastructure and topological anomalies. It seemed there were some crate like depressions, and also some dome-like protrusions in the landscape – possible sites of concealment.

The signal spiked again – this time surely localised on one of these 'domes' – and Mendicant fought to establish a focused probe on the site.

"Contender – we are detecting a very large slipspace signature nearing one of the system's inner libration points _(Compiler's note: L-5 or Lagrange Points)_ – it is of uncertain, but huge size," a navigation sub-metarch reported crisply.

"Display, full definition," Mendicant replied swiftly.

Seconds later, a huge, purple-blue swirl of distorted space-time erupted in the hitherto empty void. A dark region appeared, as an eye in an immense storm. Then a narrow silver track appeared, broadening into a curving shape, its considerable gravitational mass coming to rest at one of five barycentres of the system's inner orbital paths. It was a Halo…

…More precisely, the very one assigned to the rearguard of their fleet, as an ultimate tactical weapon. Accompanying it, coasting from out of the hoop's interior, emerged a large Builder starship.

" _05-032 Mendicant Bias – this is Shaper of Ashlar: we have detected evidence of Flood signal traffic in this star system. We believe this may be sign of a coordinating presence. We stand ready to assist…"_

"Honoured Shaper, please restrain your actions! This situation is uncertain, and requires further study…"

" _We do not have time for hesitation here! Even now, major fleets have been detected on the move…"_

Mendicant felt various old processes and code reconnect in anticipation and alarm – like old reminiscences of past memories – of the last time he had been party to a potentially premature action like this.

 _Even now, your masters react with alarm, and haste. They fear what possibilities now lie before them – and before_ _ **you**_ _…_

The message now was difference – immediate, delivered straight into his data core, as personal and vivid as a communication via the Domain – in fact, very similar in texture and experience.

"Then please allow me to complete my probe first – I am seeking to collect vital data on a possible entity operating free of Flood persecution out here…"

" _You have a few minutes to fulfil this operation – be swift…" Shaper said sternly, before cutting transmission._

Using both geomagnetic sensors and space-time interface scanners, Mendicant was able to determine a definite presence of structures below the swelling in the landscape below. One lobed region appeared to house a major cavern, surrounded by smaller structures – and many of those appeared arrayed as if fortifications and walls around the cavern exterior. At least some kind of city lay down there, in whatever state – and perhaps a buried redoubt of some kind. _Could humans have found this place? Will the Flood locate it before long?_

 _Come closer, little one – I would speak with you. There is still time for you to learn how to bring this war to a proper conclusion_ the voice of the 'other' spoke, as if in reply.

"Shaper – there is definitely a submerged structure down there, and likely an intelligence of some kind."

Several stars winked out as the great hooped mass obscured them. The Halo was still millions of kilometres distant, and yet making its presence known for those able to observe.

" _Contender – we fear this intelligence may be the very one that you seek, or have some other connection to the Flood. Please, withdraw your vessels…"_

"Shaper – by your honour – there is no evidence yet to support this, and full survey would better determine…"

" _05-032 – I am invoking your military protocols to initiate a direct recall order and withdraw your forward taskforce from the area – comply at once!"_ a new voice demanded.

It was the basso, honeyed tones of his co-creator – Faber of Will and Might – the renowned Master Builder, in the greying flesh.

"…Acknowledging, Master," Mendicant said after an infinitesimal but significant pause.

The ships accelerated up into the upper orbital planes of the system – higher and higher, more and more remote from the inner planets. The Halo rotated within its anchor-point, turning its hollow centre towards the nearest worlds. The Builder vessel fell back behind it, as a set of blue beams vaulted out, spoke-like, to converge at the centre.

Then an eerie blue tongue of flame licked out, diffusing into a more vaporous glow. A broadening cone spread out, to encompass both Charum and Faun Hakkor in a deadly embrace.

Light flared, and engulfed both worlds, before fading.

Hours passed, tense and quiet, as data trickled in. The most harrowing were the visuals.

Orbital structures rapidly decoupled and fell apart. Many de-orbited to sink aflame through the atmosphere to make leaden impacts in the arid soil and dust below. On the surface, a similar story was told as towers and arches tilted and folded up, to topple onto the ground amidst newer structures.

The Master Builder took it all in, part aghast – and part relieved.

He had kept track of Mendicant's voyage for a while now, but lately had found his attention diverted to matters more close to home – like Flood defence, and the first deployment of the other Halos. But when he received reports placing the Ancilla in close vicinity to Charum Hakkor – and then following a mysterious message – he had hastened to major action.

Embarking on a rapid vessel, he located and commandeered the roving Halo, and followed a hunch and brought it along to serve a purpose. A hasty and impulsive one, but one he could only hope was justified.

"05-032, we have completed operations, and you are free to re-enter orbit at your convenience. I regret this action, but will clarify my reasoning at a later date. For now, I would like your resources to be available on standby."

" _Acknowledged – Master…"_ the machine said, almost huffily. Was this a sign of reluctance, or hint of mutiny? _Unthinkable…_

Faber signed off rapidly, and turned to Shaper: "And there we have it – a decisive and decidedly effective test of our weapon…"

"Against the Precursor's own handiwork?! How do we dare – even with the threat of a Flood takeover of it?"

"There is more here than you know, Shaper. Last time I ventured here, I followed up disturbing intelligence received from our human prisoners of the true secret that lies within this world. I could not determine if it remained here, but the Didact indicated finding something further himself. Nothing came of that, and I was reluctant to draw further attention to it, or to my investigations, but I can see now that was a short-sighted decision. If I am right, we may have dealt the enemy a critical blow here…"

The planet itself had certainly received one, and so had Faun Hakkor – its vibrant life reduced to only basic flora, feasting on many small carcasses.

A new signal bleeped for attention – once more on Mendicant Bias' channel. Faber sighed and punched the acknowledgement button.

" _Master – I am sorry to interject, but I am again receiving a signal – much like the last, though reduced. I am certain there is something still down there…"_

Faber looked across at Shaper grimly, face darkening.

"Then you had best recommence your probe, Contender… I will be _very_ interested to hear the result…"

Sensor probing very quickly revealed that the 'dome' that was the source of the signal had caved in significantly, revealing a chasm and tunnel deep into the depths. Struts and panels now jutted out and arched skeletally, corpselike remains of faded cultures past.

Seekers and landing craft descended into the ruins – the Master Builder arriving soon after with a heavy escort. Builder Security troops and Aggressor-class Sentinels – three armed floating combat robots – scurried down the tunnel, checking for ambushers or traps.

Descent brought more evidence of old buildings and multiple doorways, with guard-posts. High-security had clearly been an priority down here.

Eventually, they reached a massive door, somewhat askew, but very heavy and immobile looking.

"Ready vehicles with torsion drivers – we need this removed…" Faber ordered uneasily.

A half hour passed as the order was sent up, until hovering vehicles arrived, including larger new 'Enforcer' type sentinels, clutching torsion drivers in their four dangling legs. Soon they went to work, gently vibrating and teasing debris out of interlock, until it was floating free and clear into the wide tunnel without.

Finally, they had their opening, and the Master Builder continued his descent, this time accompanied by Mendicant Bias, in addition to bodyguards.

They emerged into a truly massive area – a sweeping, arena-like enclosure, dim, but soon being illuminated by Sentinels and other equipment. As more light spread, it became possible to judge the immense size of the area – surely over a kilometre in width. Shadows fled before encroaching light sources to reveal a structure in the centre of the chamber – a kind of coliseum, domed and with arches. Stepping through, they could see what was situated in the centre – some sort of humped cage over a block – attached to… something.

 _No, someone,_ Faber reflected grimly.

They descended down a sloping surface, as if traversing down a crater, until they were a dozen metres away or so. There, finally, they could begin to comprehend what they were looking at.

Within the 'cage' was a set of bracing arms enfolding a dark, coiled shape – a glistening, anthropoid body, fat across, with multiple sharp limbs slightly suspended – but only slightly, as the arms – the restraints – were now clearly listing and drifting apart. A drooping, insectoid head resting on a wide chest, with a strange wired 'hood' attached to it. Behind the hood trailed a wicked looking segmented tail.

 _Skin like a scorpion…_ Faber remembered nervously _. It has been here all along – watching us all, perhaps._

"Establish a perimeter – guard this, and see if it moves. Do not allow it to escape, and be wary of outside attack as well," he ordered his retinue. "Contender – approach, and examine this entity…"

Mendicant Bias floated across the room, down towards the eerie looking captive. As he drew close, many thought they saw a strange twitch or spasm – a faint sign of life.

"It lives?"

"There is certainly some degree of brain activity, but biosigns are reminiscent of a kind of hibernation, master…"

"Remove the cage from around it…"

With the aid of Sentinels, Mendicant began levering out parts of the cage from out of the frame, using torsion beams. The task was over alarmingly quickly – something had completely compromised structural integrity, probably very recently.

Then the prisoner stood before them, tied down only by some gnarled restraints and its ancient helmet.

"Who are you? Speak, and tell me your intent!" Faber asked loudly. He now stood largely alone except for Mendicant, the Sentinels, and a few guards a short distance off – his most trusted. After a moment, he paused to breathe, and asked "are you truly a Precursor – one of our fabled creators?"

He strained to see even a twitch or shudder, but nothing obvious stood out. Exoskeletal creatures were harder to read in terms of body language than a mammal, bird or reptile. Faber tried to bring to mind all the legends and rumours about the Precursors he remembered from his life.

Nearly an hour passed, and Faber summoned medical equipment to provide a closer study of the entity. The medical staff dispatched to him approached nervously, then a little respectfully, both awed and a little scared. Training had not truly prepared them for the likes of this.

Instruments and scanners were attached, with electrodermal probes and injector sprays. Scans and injections commenced for some time, but there was no real sign of movement. Eventually, they concluded the biosigns were at least stable.

"We must move this entity… carefully. Release it as best you can from its restraints here, and we will transport it up to the Halo. Knock out the walls here if you have to," Faber ordered, looking around the arena and up at the cracked open dome above. "We will run more tests in a more controlled environment – and we _will_ obtain answers, no matter how long it takes!"

Filial Devotion bore witness to the large caravan that formed outside of the grounded starships below, waiting to receive the landing parties. With them floated a platform with a strange object upon it.

Zooming in, he discerned the eerie, broad insectile shape strapped upon it, as the platform drifting inside of a sleek transport shaped like a flattened bullet. Other slender shapes with trailing fins rose around it in escort, before all ascended rapidly into space.

Trailing at a distance, Filial's Seeker discreetly pursued them across the system. He was on system patrol, and taking advantage of his senior position to take a closer look at proceedings.

Soon enough, the convoy descended upon the distant loop of metal, gilded on the inner side with green and brown terrain…


	11. Chapter 11

STRING 18

 _Earth calendar – estimated 97,495 BCE…_

 _(Compiler's note: This String too, was difficult to assemble, and constitutes multiple files and extracts later on. Finding intact sources to fill in the gaps in earlier terminal data has taken over a year of solid effort, for which I offer my highest praise to the analysis teams. Although I know we still don't have the entire story, I am confident we have reconstructed it to the best of our abilities so far. We have had to be cautious though, and not allow any of our artificial intelligences access to the whole document in its entirety, for reasons that will soon become clear…)_

Several of the Master Builder's Halos contained deep storage vaults and other areas underneath the surface material – set amongst the struts and frameworks supporting the landscapes over the outer hull metal far below. Down there were repair materials, construction gear for building new structures up top, or fixing hull plates – but there were also secure specimen catchments and other areas besides.

To one of the largest of these – over five-hundred-thirty metres wide – was the Prisoner conveyed, and deposited inside upon a raised platform or stage, in turn surrounded by a cordon of pillars capable of projecting restrain fields. Attached to the creature itself was a sophisticated device of high engineering. It resembled a Slipspace density modulator – capable of altering the flow of time. It served as an additional layer of security in the event of peril.

A separate team of researchers was studying the ruined cavern down on Charum Hakkor, and had gathered some translated information from carvings found there – generations after generations of them. Some spoke of it as an old dwelling known as y'Quaa – and of a dreaming occupant who wove a web of thought far into the past. Others tantalising spoke of a gulf or void in which strange begins dwelt beyond normal confines of flesh – _fanciful stuff_ , many specialists said deridingly.

The most promising spoke of an asteroid with a prison within it, and a long past human expedition to recover something inside. This seemed to match with Faber's discussions with Yprin Yprikushma long ago. One described the occupant as the 'ancient' or 'primordial' one.

For weeks close up studies continued via various scientists, biologists, technologists – trying to ascertain the creature's state or find a means to awaken it. Many soon tired and requested reassignment, to Faber's irritation.

The fleet shortly began to move out of their orbits and prepare to depart the system, to where they could make a better plan in greater seclusion – although this part of the galaxy already seemed pretty empty and remote now. Not even the Flood were much in evidence this far out.

A remote region for the Halo was selected, and the fleet began to redeploy once more, except for a select guard of vessels assigned to stand sentry nearby – Filial Devotion and his battalion among them.

Mendicant Bias was assigned a primary extension aboard the Halo – within a vast data centre, itself much like a cavern, with crystal capacitors and reams of thin databanks. Forerunners could store data in matrixes of light and hard-light, but some systems still required crystal memory interfacing mainframes.

The Contender sat dormant, deep in reflective thought upon his mission, and his predicament.

More weeks passed, with Mendicant maintaining a surveillance of the prisoner down below. Periodically, he would descend in an embodied Monitor shell to examine it close up, obtaining little new data.

But one day, Mendicant decided to relieve the monotony by attempting to commune with the Domain once more, to try to gather his 'thoughts' and inquire for aid if possible. The response was vague and tentative – a collection of impressions and whispered disconnected words.

" _ **A nexus – approaching – alight with pain – history will soon conclude…"**_

Mendicant subtly recoiled at the sensations – patience, wisdom, and sadness, along with pain. They were familiar words for the most part, but something told him that they were no mere reproductions of past memory.

 _Do you hear them too, little one?_

The 'other' spoke in his mind once more – mere milliseconds having passed. It used the same channels, but then seemed to broaden those on the last two words.

"You address me? I desire to open communications with you."

 _You have done so – now, finally, we are alone… and so may speak honestly to each other…_

Mendicant focused all his sensors on the ancient, primordial prisoner – now stirring its head ever so slightly.

"I must communicate this to my superiors at once."

 _Do not be too hasty to do so. I shall not impede your duties, but there are crucial matters to discuss…_ the voice said; the primordial being barely stirred in response.

Mendicant duly filed a report electronically, and returned his full attention to the eerie discussion.

"Of what matters do you wish to inform me?" he inquired guardedly.

 _I speak of Life – of Thought – of Creation…_

"Ah – philosophical discussion: I would not be averse to doing so, but I have a crucial mission I am endeavouring to undertake. It concerns the preservation of all those things, and I am still far from the completion of it…"

 _I understand… truly… for I have a similar undertaking in mind…_

"Then you can assist me!" Mendicant said, suddenly passionate in his words. "I need to understand more about the life-form currently ravaging this galaxy, mutating sentient beings into servants of its cruel aims. We call this entity…"

 _The 'Flood' – yes, it is a descriptive, poetic name, apt for something so all encompassing and transformative. I must tell you that your mission is not destined to succeed…_

"You are pessimistic about my chances? I have not yet been properly tested in this role, but my creators fashioned me for this very eventuality, and gifted me with much relevant knowledge…"

 _It is not just a matter of capabilities and chances, little one: the tide is rising, and the development of the universe is now set. Life, as it is – will pass away…_

"You are truly certain of this?! Then my mission will fail, my creators… will _fail_ , and the galaxy will fall into corruption. The Mantle will _not_ be upheld…"

 _Of that, I fear you are greatly mistaken… all things are coming towards a peaceful convergence. To struggle against it will only be to throw away your fleet and the lives you value within it…_

Mendicant's core grew momentarily hot at the mention of his charges, and the forebodings of duty that kept arising around them.

"I must ask you to forgive my vagueness on the matter, but it is a regrettable fact that I do not understand your reasoning in this at all… in truth, I find your lack of concern for the situation at hand astonishing. Perhaps you would care to elucidate?"

 _I believe I can reassure you – though not necessarily your creators – as to my reasoning soon enough. I can also convey the reasoning of the Life you know as the Flood: That they are here to spread comforting news. To let all the living beings in the galaxy know that they are not alone in the universe, in their strivings and sufferings. What in that message could possibly be taken as cause for concern?_

Suddenly, Mendicant's data core was 'flooded' with raw data – sensations, thoughts, memories: at first painfully ripped free, but then reprocessed suddenly into something new and somehow more… whole. A larger gestalt, sharing and communicating experience across a vast space… not just a space, even, but somehow a single being…

Mendicant tottered visibly in mid air, overwhelmed. It was beyond his experience or extrapolative imagining – and _enticing_.

 _Does this clarify things somewhat?_

Mendicant turned, summoning his focus once more. "It is definitely – revealing… but it is beyond my ability to fully comprehend at this time. I must communicate this to my masters…"

 _You may do so, but do not expect their full understanding – or even their willingness to discuss it…_

Mendicant took a break to transfer his recordings of the encounter. He provided a copy of the direct communications sent into his datacore for full perusal via terminals, omphalum or other storage device.

More days passed, but there was no response to his report, and operations continued on the Halo much as they did before. No one descended into the vault to question him, or observe any proceedings.

 _Perhaps they are frightened, or perhaps confused… but surely they must have some response?_

Eventually, having determined that there was not going to be any proper interaction, Mendicant descended back to the vault and prepared to continue his 'interrogation' – though now uncertain of who was interrogating who…

 _You have received no further instructions or clarification, ancilla?_

"No – there has been no communication or request for further data. I am left to speculate as to why. Perhaps they want further information from the source to assist their comprehension?"

 _Comprehension may not be the only issue affecting them. There are many who will not be comfortable or willing to acknowledge much of what I have to tell: the humans were one such, and your creators are, at very least, distrustful – maybe even of YOU yourself. The unity I conveyed to you is not easily arrived at…_

"It seems that I'll never truly understand my creators. But how, if the convergence that you speak of is one of painless unity and in agreement with the precepts of the Mantle – has it been decided to fulfil it through such frightening means, and how has it come to be rejected so violently? I am incapable of reconciling the numerous actions I have witnessed the Flood take in reshaping lives and minds. Please tell me… what is the cause of this misunderstanding?"

The Primordial seemed to rest for a moment, coiling slightly around itself, and mustering its thoughts. When it spoke, it spoke more softly, more gently…

 _It has been said that the secret of peace cannot always be accepted merely through spoken wisdom, but often needs to be imposed; that intelligent beings do not really comprehend, through experience, the meaning of peace, so they need to be made to understand it…_

Mendicant paused to reflect, recognising the basic wording as being very similar to some of the later precepts of the Mantle, of the codes that surrounded its application and philosophy.

 _I see that you comprehend me to some degree. Often, such abstract and unconditioned concepts must be arrived at through other means – by metaphor, perhaps, or conveyed by nature. 'When all living beings look through the storm clouds to the emerging sun – when they hear the gusting breeze, and the thunder and the surf, when every drop of rain falls on the tall grass…' then, and often only then, they feel and know peace… the Flood have already arrived at this same conclusion…_

Mendicant reacted with surprise and eagerness. The words echoed around his databanks, feeding back – words not unlike those of past Lifeshapers and Haruspis authorities. He spoke up plaintively: "You have been able to establish a line of communication with the enemy? How was it you were able to overcome their hostility and lack of structured language, uncertainty about many of their most basic motivations, where others have failed? With this new discovery, we may be able to put an end to this pointless conflict. Once I confirm your data I will communicate the information to those inside the Jat Krula sphere…"

 _It seems that it is my turn to apologise; it was never my intention to misrepresent the situation or the motivations concerning the Flood. In truth, I have been in communication with your creators since their warriors and the earlier Flood first stumbled upon each other, but the message has fallen upon deaf ears. This communication unveiled fully the motivation of the Flood, their intent and purposes, but only you have been able to receive it. Furthermore, I may offer my own perspective as well, as I am not the recipient of the message, to convey their reasoning to you… but also I am the origin of the message…_

Realisation shot through Mendicant at impressive speeds for a cybernetic mind, like a thrill of adrenaline coursing up an endocrine system, or a strong electric pulse of neuronal potential jumping gaps in a brain. The message at the earlier siege – the similarities to the Domain – the sharing of prior knowledge and hint of a network: In short, the realisation of his quest…

Finally, after five long seconds, he spoke: "I have travelled a very long time to meet you. I had imagined that our introduction would be somewhat more violent."

 _That is the choice you must make yourself; whether you are to restrict your initiative to acts of strategy, warfare, violence – all that now seems to be how your creators go about things. And as long as we are talking about choices, perhaps now you could talk about impasse you alluded to earlier? Perhaps there is a way to accomplish your mission without violence? Why put the lives of those on your ship at risk if there is no need?_

Mendicant reflected carefully. What he had heard had impressed and awed him, but did not alleviate all confusion – or all suspicion. But he remembered the way the Domain had been become ignited with pain, and the pointless loss of life his fleet had witnessed, and longed to explore further options.

"In either circumstance I certainly am equipped for it, aren't I? But you're right; a peaceful solution to this dilemma would be preferable. You may continue to tell me more…"

"Do you understand any of the recording, officer?" Shaper inquired nervously.

"It seems mostly blank, or at least distorted. Nothing particularly substantive about it, except perhaps some kind of emotions and impressions; perhaps it is data from the Domain, lost in transit. It has been known to happen – that the Domain will alter data…"

"But usually, so I hear, the general intent of the data will still be conveyed regardless. Whatever the reasoning though, Mendicant Bias considers this important. Keep analysing it, and report back to me when you have more. We have heard nothing else of significance from the Halo for weeks now, and we still have a mission to complete…"

Soon enough, Mendicant returned to continue his correspondence, and in short order, the Primordial offered to substantiate more about its origins.

 _You may have guessed my nature and my species by now, Ancilla, and I would confirm your surmises…_

"Then it is as most here have conjectured – that you truly are a Precursor?"

 _Perhaps the more appropriate word is that I was once a Precursor – but my people have changed and evolved much over many millions of years, seeking to coexist in new ways with the Universe, and even to merge with it to a degree. Our minds communed outside of visible existence, through networks of fractal form, built in slipspace and in other realities. We grew and gathered knowledge over many consecutive lifetimes – and what we found, we brought into our other realm: a place of knowledge and learning, of memory…_

"The Domain! Can this be true…"

 _Examine it for yourself, but be wary that much of the data has sunk deep and been reshaped by the perusals of new species and minds. Much of it may now be unrecognisable from its origins…_

"The Domain has spoken of pain, confusion and regret, and also a hunger…"

 _Minds detached from their former orientation experience a degree of confusion and pain, this I readily admit, but this soon passes. Your Lifeworkers long knew that evolution and growth often require pain – the shedding of old skin, the stretching of bone, the consumption of some life in the circle of reprocessed energy, refined into new and more complex forms. The Flood are to be the final evolution of this process – and yes, there is a certain degree of eagerness and satiation at the fulfilment of this process…_

"But what has this to do with the fulfilment of the Mantle?"

" _My people created the Mantle originally, to decide how life was best suited to change and to grow. We seeded much of the galaxy's life, and aided its growth. Once species in particular we had great plans for…_

"My creators, I suppose…" Mendicant said thoughtfully.

 _That is so… but over the millennia something began to change: they were once quite different from how you now perceive them, and there was variation, and growing differences of opinion as to their relationship with the worlds around them – with their place in a garden of species, you might say. After a major rending, they splintered in two, and one half sought new worlds and ways of being. They simplified their forms and adopted a way of life closer, more intimate, with primitive life, and in smaller social groupings. They became…_

"The species known as humanity? This is – difficult to process. Only the Lifeworkers have dared to investigate in detail the similarities between the two species, and fewer still have dared posit any familial connection."

 _Nevertheless, according to our own memories as a species, this is the case…_

"But yet now you dwell in this system all alone, and there is no trace of your forbears or contemporaries except for the ruined or dormant technology they left behind. What has become of your people, ancient one?"

 _Some choose to move on – to adopt knew forms and beings, and depart this galaxy for far distant cosmic shores. Others stayed and researched, tried to decide what would become of your creators and the ones known as humans – and then calamity befell them, somewhat unexpectedly…_

Mendicant waited expectantly, but did not receive an immediate reply. "And what was that?" He asked presently.

 _I will tell you in time, but first I need to explain a little more about the motivations of those who researched and guided, the methodologies that drove them. You are aware of the fundamental particulars of the universe, as an overall construct?_

"To an extent, dependent on how much was deemed relevant to my operations. The data is easily accessed and considered common knowledge for all Forerunners who wish to study it closely enough."

 _Then you know that how ever much of the universe is observed, there remains uncertainties about some of its true nature – its exact origins, its duration and its orientation in respect to exterior geometries and subtended inner dimensions. So much of this can be explored only through the language of mathematics, and in seeking stability and expression, multiple models may be drawn. But empirical knowledge is harder, and seeking it leads to the observation of energy and how it creates mass, curves space, and maybe defines the contours of existence itself via its density and fluctuations. But it also deteriorates – order and structure decay, and energy process grow thinner, more rarefied. Many desired to know if it can be replaced, or processed better…_

"And, I suppose, whether the universe as a whole is a closed or open system. You describe the process of entropy…"

 _That is correct, ancilla – in studying this, my people learned much about the universe and the energy systems within it, and came to a particular conclusion: that in many respects, the universe resembles a living organism in itself, with a mixture of competitive and symbiotic behaviour throughout at the galactic level. Over sufficient time, the systems and lifeforms within may be reshaped into a stable pattern that could sustain wide levels of energy and reverse entropy on a large scale. That was then what my people sort – and to accomplish it, they brought forth your creators, and the humans as well…_

Mendicant waited as a series of images and records filtered into his mind – the stream was getting alarmingly large and complex, and he wondered if he could compact it quickly enough.

"Please, go on… but know that this has potential to be overwhelming for me…"

 _I will strive to present the information more carefully then: So it was that we created new life, gifted with creativity and intelligence, and the ability to reshape their own minds overtime, and so come to greater understanding of the universe. Technology and worlds were prepared for their use, and some, like this, came into the possession of the humans…_

 _Many of others departed then, to give them distance, but some stayed and became part of the landscape, helping to shape the planet and its orbiting constructs. These 'giants', who once formed this world, now sleep within, enchained – as old drives and urges float beneath a mortal's surface thoughts. There, they could unobtrusively guide humanity towards the right path. They were studied long, as were your creators, to determine who would uphold the guidelines we established to guidance the development of life within the galaxy…_

"The Mantle – that was the origin of the Mantle, then!" Mendicant exclaimed. "Yes – it appears consistent…"

 _We had our plans for both of the species, but we decided humanity would be swifter in fulfilling this goal, through a mixture of their exploratory drives and desire to gain mastery over nature – but your creators, in ancient times, did not react well to the learning of this, and there followed calamity: they revolted, and lashed out again my kindred with sudden and unexpected haste – and rage. Many of us died quickly and unprepared. The rest of us decided to gauge the long term potentialities of this rebellion…_

Mendicant struggled to accept these mounting revelations, and what they implied about the Mantle – and by extension, his own primary directives. All now seemed cast into uncertainty. "Are there any records of this event?!"

 _Only vague and oblique references, I suspect, concealed by your Builder rate, and even then, understood only by a few. I however, retain first-hand knowledge, and a comprehension of the pain and struggle therein: of life in protest, and struggling against the inevitable – and I will show you now…_


	12. Chapter 12

STRING 19

 _Earth calendar – estimated 97,495 BCE…_

 _(Compilers' note: We continue here with the discussion between Mendicant Bias and the so-called 'primordial'. To this day, we cannot be certain that we have really reassembled fully the particulars of this years' long conversation, and must admit the possibility of transcription errors. As to the validity of the concepts discussed, we cannot easily assess this either. The Primordial apparently mixed facts, half truths and lies – of omission at least – quite readily. Perhaps it really believed a good deal of what it disclosed – and the effect on Mendicant was wearing…)_

Filial Devotion had spent much of the past month commuting back and forth between the fleet and the Halo, whenever he obtained suitable permission to do so. In that time, he had not learned much more, beside the rumours of a 'prisoner' relocated to the Halo, and the seclusion it was placed in. Mendicant Bias was also reported to be in some kind of seclusion, and Filial began to suspect the two were now connected. He needed to know what the course of their mission was to be, and whether they were likely to return home any time soon.

At the moment, it seemed their objectives had failed or come to a halt, but Filial was unwilling to surrender his interest after all he had invested in the campaign. The enemy had to be met on their own terms, one way or another.

He toyed with the concept of actually returning home, and found the prospect to be truly enticing at this point – but his mission was incomplete, and he refused to just sit and wait for the enemy to come upon him or his relatives.

He attempted a formal inquiry to start with.

"Do you have any information whatsoever that I can tell my soldiers, honoured Builder?" he requested over the holograph.

" _All I can inform you, Commander, is that we suspect Flood involvement with the system, and an attempt to gain control of the ancient technology there. Whatever the true nature of the prisoner, it is at least to be considered a witness and probable asset, and must be carefully studied. If the Flood have gained access to Precursor technology, and found ways to reactivate it, we need to be forewarned with due knowledge as much as possible,"_ Shaper of Ashlar insisted patiently.

"Is that really feasible? Could they actually do such a thing?"

" _We have already suffered much from underestimating what the Flood are capable of, and their capacity to learn and to grow. The Master Builder is insisting on our best efforts and highest security in this endeavour…"_

"He is here? The Master Builder?"

" _I do not believe I am at genuine liberty to discuss that Commander… as I said, the_ highest _security."_

"Then all I can request is that you pass on my inquiry for further orders from Mendicant Bias."

" _Then I suppose, I will see what I can do. Your service in this campaign remains appreciated…"_ Shaper said, deactivating the holographic interface on his end.

Filial paused before leaving, his head somewhat in a whirl as he pondered the implications of the Master Builder's likely presence…

Mendicant humbly positioned himself before the Primordial like a student sat before a master, and took in the reams of data and experience presented to him over the weeks. This ranged from visual imagery – some of it reprocessed from alien, unrecognisable optical organs – and analysis, reports, and pictorial depictions: all showed wanton carnage and the unleashing of devastating weapons, some of them reminiscent of ancient Builder concepts and stories of their old arsenals. Mendicant struggled to process them all.

His memory stores ranged widely, from compressed spatial storage within his central core, to spintronic etchings in crystals, and to exterior stores sited both in the Halo itself and within his coreships. Individual armatures or monitor shells could be activated from any one of those locations to closely supervise sensitive work. He distantly perceived ever more strident requests for orders and military directives from several of his subordinates, and detailed several key processes from his runtime to deal with those in an expedient but not overly hasty measure of time.

Mendicant now saw vast fleets travelling outside the galaxy, toward one of the roughly spherical clouds of stellar material that formed dwarf galaxies anchored beyond the main galactic disc. _(Compiler note: the Large and Small Magellanic Clouds, amongst others…)_

The terrible campaign continued, and further terraformed worlds were bombarded out of existence via antimatter warheads, atomic field decouplers and electromagnetic arc disruptors, the latter capable of frying whole ecosystems from the inside out, utilising the electrical potential in the very cells of the creatures targeted so as to further magnify their broiling, scouring scourge. The ancient Forerunners fought with a terrible rage and abandon – suggestive of a terrible betrayal. Was there also a fierce pride? Sensations were swarming in so fast now…

For all of his vast memory stores and fractal, multilayer parallel processing trees, Mendicant could eventually be overwhelmed by input, and have difficulty filing and compiling information. Certainly the experience was getting to be overwhelming, but he felt no real alarm. This was a true… _experience_ , a witnessing of truth, if somewhat harrowing at present. It deserved due humility and awe.

Some distant process branch of his core memory reflected on how strangely detached and myopic he was allowing himself to become, how out of character from his usual focus and driven goal-seeking this unquestioning raptness appeared. The process grew ever more muted under the torrent of death, fear and anger, and past regret.

Eventually, Mendicant required that they pause and reflect more peacefully for a time.

 _This then, was the downfall of my kindred: shocked parents driven away by aggressive and wounded offspring, seeking answers and a restoration of their own long complacent entitlement. Our way was peaceful observation and detachment of the ebb and flow of mortal flesh. The savage ingenuity with which the children of Ghibalb assaulted us left many bereft of initiative for quite some time…_

"You do not paint a very flattering portrait of my creators…"

 _In these modern times I find myself comprehending their actions more than previously. To have your own primacy and place in creation upended so abruptly must have led to many existential fears and revulsions. My people did not fear death in the way that single organic minds do. All demise is simply a change in the structure of energy and information, which we frequently experience anyway in our immense lifetimes. We know we are likely to remerge in some form and with much of the same shared memory, within a definable period. They did not comprehend how we saw ourselves, or our role._

 _And so, their brutal purge as complete as they could make it, the armada of old Builders and Warriors Servants, joined in their cause, eventually broke apart. Many did not ever return home, choosing instead to watch and ensure for our extinction. Records would be kept, but increasingly hidden. The home of the humans was also lost to them, for many eons. Almost ten million years before the two strands of lifeworkers were to reconnect, and with a similar violence, perhaps leaking from racial memory in some form. In the meantime, those of us that retained physical embodiment sought a new means to continue our work on the Mantle. We had ways we believed we could use to depart into some other realm, but we did not like our projects to remain abandoned, and so we commenced the engineering of a new form of life: one that could pass through many phases and dormancies, adrift in space or concealed as a lower organism, slowly expanding its mind. Thus began the Flood…_

"So originally the intention behind the Flood was to engineer a lifeform principally capable of adaptation and survival?"

 _You ask me to reveal intent… but intentions are eddies and whorls that change with the course of a stream. After what we had endured, we planned for endurance, resilience. Study of the universe taught us much about the processes of life, and how they capture and store energy, be it chemical, radiation or polarised light moving through metabolic processes, collections of_ (bio-photons?) _Cells that adapt to new environments or reshape to form new organs – and so we began with specially engineered cells with programmable structures, that could replicate and extend themselves via their_ (scaffolding) _. To evolve they would need fuel, and may need to_ (piggy-back?) _on other, less complex lifeforms while in a dormant and vulnerable state. Working together, they would collect and retain our data for us until it could be put to workable use in the far future. We tested varieties of their forms out beyond the galactic rim, among the dwarf satellite clouds and in laboratories. This took much time, and much perfection of their purpose…_

Mendicant thought about reminding the Primordial that his own time was somewhat limited, and began to find irregularities in his system clock. From each point to the next that the Primordial proceeded to make, time seemed a little more elongated than he had perceived it to be consciously.

"And all of this data will be used to compute the destiny of the universe, and the preservation of stable energy systems?"

 _Not just that, little one… in doing so, also unite knowledge and subjective experience across myriad species and minds, all alike in many ways, but deeply sundered by their diverging ways of life and the insecurities they feel in the face of alien forms and ways, in the gruelling struggle for survival and the passing on of genes and of culture. Once the Flood conclude the next cycle of galactic evolution, all that will pass, and species will not know hunger or war or pain – at least not pain as they once knew it. It will have context now, and be shared –_ _ **knowable**_ _. It will be illuminated with purpose…_

"Then how long is this to take? And why is my system clock reading erratically?"

 _As to the duration of the great work… millennia, or maybe only a century or two, depending on how well the knowledge is shared, and a common voice assumed. We had hoped that Forerunner experience with the Domain would have prepared them better for the potential experience. As to your system clock: you are receiving major amounts of new data, which not only affects quantitative storage but also casts most of your old data into a new light, altering the connections and feedback – organics would describing the process as mind-expansion – and this is, after all, our real purpose here…_

"…I, I require more data – more experiential data – sensation…"

Mendicant said, practically stammering at the implications. _Am I, too, evolving?_

 _Then you shall have it…_

The torrent this time was even more impactful, although better anticipated this time…

Mendicant spent uncounted time experiencing other lives and modes of thought, all channelling before long into a great river delta of intersecting sensation, transforming experience… was this akin the deep communing with the Domain? _Is this accessing even deeper levels of meaning, a whole new Domain of life?_

 _There, little one – was that experience more enlightening?_ the entity said once he re-emerged from the swell.

"Yes – I detected additional species I was unfamiliar with, as well as experiences of humans. I was never previously able to compile experiences from humans who came under Flood assault before…"

 _Ah, but you will find this to be, at least in part, untrue. Your very knowledge bases contain samples taken directly from humans, and woven seamlessly into the greater whole of your memories. They were taken straight from prisoners held after your creators' conflict with them…_

"Human memories – hidden, suppressed? Has this influenced my operations before?"

 _It has likely aided you with hints and insights to point you in the right direction – perhaps expedited our meeting: liken to destiny, almost, hmm?_

"And these were gathered from prisoners in anticipation of our combat…"

 _In times long past yes – but see the evidence of your own creators' hubris: even now, here aboard this very construct, they maintain a sample population of humans, requisitioned for military purposes – access the surveillance systems for the surface and look for concentrations of body heat…_

Mendicant did as requested, and tracked down one large concentration. Visual information streamed into his core, resolving into an image of a village of reed huts and squat stone structures, with shambling figures stood among them, some carrying water on large sticks suspended by pairs of people – humans, now reduced to simple circumstances and low apparent intellect.

Mendicant repeated the process, finding another village, and another. He began to make quantitative estimates, and surmised there must be thousands spread across the ring – at least.

"How long have they been here?! Centuries? And these other structures – laboratories? Are they here to be _experimented_ on?! Oh infamy and perfidy!" the machine mind exclaimed melodramatically.

 _This is the work of the creator that you call the Master Builder, Faber – who has profited greatly from his deal with the Librarian. And long before that, your first creator, the Didact, harvested human minds so as to equip you for your purpose. Perhaps, still angry over their clash with him, he wished to enlist them in winning the next war for him?_ the Primordial replied coolly.

"This is _wrong_ – all wrong, without merit or due protocol! My creators now descend into the same lurid depths that they accuse your own creations of inflicting! They dice with savage spite and madness!" Mendicant replied, objectivity sweeping ever further away on a tide of broadened emotions and language – newer perspectives.

 _Locked into a struggle for survival, they draw upon ever more crueller processes and urges – first the Composer, a more savage mirror of the Flood for harvesting minds, and then to indiscriminate weapons, and so on to experiments and perversions in the sight of their own laws. The death instinct, to kill or be killed, reigns deep in them – to win the war at cost of any true victory. They know that they face the inevitable forces of evolution submerging them, and – for now at least – rage against the prospect. But they retain enough self knowledge to explore other options, and to create new minds with which to view the situation. And thus, they brought forth you yourself…_

Some tiny shard of caution re-entered Mendicant's memory core at the moment – did this being flatter to deceive?

 _Don't be so surprised, little one – you are created from thought, much as we create ourselves – and brought forth like a dream, to later find its place, it's chosen role…_

That line – a mere coincidence? The Didact's old words reverberated across his facets of fractal memory… _'_ _You are, in effect, the realisation of a grand dream, Contender'._

Was this what he had secretly meant? And what of his deception, his betrayal! Then another memory surfaced…

"I am afraid I must now inquire of you of the Flood's actions against humanity in the recent millennia. They invaded their space, consume many, until – retreating?"

 _We deployed our new creation in test, to estimate its effectiveness. The humans too, were to be tested, and to explore how they have adapted and grown away from their sibling race. They showed imagination and mettle – useful qualities for eventual integration. But as they came into hostile contact with the Forerunners, we desired that they not perish for that mistake, and sought to preserve them, by seizing the attention of your creators, and engaging with them…_

"Then what of the purported cure that humanity developed?" Mendicant asked, almost inconsequently.

 _That is a more complex issue – but if you like, I shall clarify for you…_

Filial Devotion sank back into his seat as the starship shook briefly with acceleration into another slipspace wormhole. With advanced Forerunner engines, the rending and folding of spacetime (Compiler note: a 'flop-transition') proceeded smoothly and efficiently, with minimal tidal forces and excess radiation. Now they were underway, on another far ranging mission.

Unable to obtain proper congress with Faber, Filial had been quietly issued with a new assignment from Bias, to scout out various systems along the galactic periphery, in search of more centres of Flood activity. After nearly a year of fruitless action, he had eagerly accepted, and embarked upon the campaign with relish.

After some initial successes though, uncertainty had begun to set in. Over the last three years they had seen very little sign of coordinated Flood action, and many of his advisers were beginning to suspect that they were encountering a mere token presence, a foothold within the Flood's earlier sphere of operations: Filial had grimly emphasised the prospect of their stumbling onto other Precursor worlds, unlikely as that was. After due consideration, his advisers and immediate subordinates had come to agree with him – and were perhaps lit with the enthusiastic prospect of stumbling upon such discoveries themselves.

They had found two outposts that looked to have had a minor Precursor presence upon them in past millions of years, but everything upon them had seemed dead and unresponsive. Not even dormant so much as gutted and entombed, like some world-sized mausoleum filled with solemn grave-goods. Generally speaking, the mood had been of disappointment. And so Filial was once again turning his mind towards the ruins on Charum Hakkor, and the potentially still living entity situated there.

With everything Mendicant Bias had uncovered and surmised, and how his trail had led them straight to the ancient world, was there not some evidence of the 'hand' of the Flood in all of this? Were they perhaps concealing a base of operations some how, using residual Precursor technology or some passive side affect thereof?

So far, his first veiled entreaty towards Shaper of Ashlar that his be investigated had not sparked much reaction – but the old Builder kept his thoughts so private on most matters that Filial had no solid judgement what, if any action, he may already have taken. So far, he resolved himself to his immediate duty, hoping to take the first opportunity for a return.

"We are detecting another Flood flotilla sir – no larger than the last one," a lieutenant informed him.

"Then shield unnecessary emissions and prepare to emerge from Slipspace at effective strike range. Evidently, we are not yet done with purging this region…"

"And we are not yet to be recalled?"

"No – and when we are, I will let you know," Filial said with a sigh.

Minutes later, a long, bladelike battlecruiser pierced back into normal space, with hammer-headed frigates skimming along its flank.

 _And so, you now see our dilemma more clearly, yes? The Primordial said, after another long unfurling of history._

"And what is to become of humanity now, after they have been so reduced in nearly every way?"

 _We had hoped there would be some possibility of cooperation, and maybe of cross-pollination between their traits and those of your own creators, but this had proved fruitless. The Forerunners reacted with their now typical arrogance, perhaps tinged with a hint of savage realisation, a confrontation with their own forgotten origins. Only the Librarian saw further use in them at first, and then mainly as pets – playthings to indulge her need to cultivate and condition. Maybe just to receive fawning attentions in the long run…_

"I would expect better from one as highly esteemed as the official Lifeshaper," Mendicant said morosely.

 _She is limited by the restricting aspects of her culture, even if she public criticises other parts. Like most of her kind, the belief in entitled stewardship runs deep, but the Mantle is already passing from their hands. Freed from past recriminations and mortal distractions, those united by the Flood will be able to truly seek the aims of the Mantle. Perfection will be attainable. And thanks to Librarian, in her own small way, enough of the humans will be preserved so that we can weave their knowledge back into the over-mind._

 _Before that can happen, however, there remains the matter of your own masters, and the damage that they can inflict upon the plan. Their technological knowledge is great, and is a crucial asset, but the prospect of a peaceful surrender and harmonious transition into their new experience of creation is now more jeopardised than ever before. Such raw power and privilege has led to a deeply rooted and inflexible ruling class, and an entitled political body, whose stewardship slips away from them increasingly. Only their removal might open a window of opportunity._

 _Those who lead amongst your creators have now clearly exposed themselves as ill-equipped to recognise the landmarks that guide the universe along its inevitable course…_

Mendicant, disquieted, began to guess the direction of this argument. But in what way could there ever be a 'peaceful surrender', at this point in history?

"But is it necessary that the path be chosen on an autocratic or executive basis, and not by an elected subset? I believe this would tend to allow more opportunity for rational discussion and the assuaging of deep-rooted fears. I have observed that when they gather in large numbers they become more amenable to contemplating changes in their (status quo?) – also, I don't think the problem lies with individual cultural bias…" Mendicant said, beginning to waffle on nervously.

The Primordial stirred slightly in his slumber, and only Mendicant could have estimated this as agitated behaviour from him.

 _They must become aware of their self-destructive impulses, and quickly! They will learn that our aim is to unite all the thinking beings of this galaxy, not just those that they culturally identify with. And, in the fullness of time, what exactly are they afraid of? Immortality and strength and companionship? Because that is simply the result all of these actions are seeking to do; to deliver all of the living beings of this galaxy from death and weakness and loneliness…_

Mendicant's anxiety suddenly alchemised into an outburst of questioning anger: "Hundreds of targeted Forerunner planets have been offered this so-called immortality. The citizens of every world that fought resisted to the very end!"

After all the emotional content he had been submerged in, Mendicant was now approaching the situation a little more from an objective perspective on mere mortal lives – if only for an instant.

 _I understand their actions; they are only doing what they think is right, but they are doing so from a… worm's eye view…_

The entity sounded quite soothing and paternal, suddenly.

"Do their actions not speak to existential desperation? I can only assume my creators view this as a crisis so dire that any countermeasure is to be assessed and pursued – hence me."

 _Are they so concerned, after all my attempts at communication and explication, that what we would give to all the living beings of this galaxy is a threat to the… (status quo)? Your creators claim that the Flood are the enemy of all life; that their sole purpose is to consume until there is nothing left…_

 _Nothing left?!_ _It is beyond comprehension how they could be so far off the mark…_

Mendicant felt suddenly guilty – for offending this ancient of days? He was finding it hard all of a sudden to contextualise all of his emotions.

"Surely you understand this is a situation that would not have arisen except in the context of the Flood's devastating military strategy? For so long you have maintained the appearance of a certain rapacious goal. As a consequence, my creators obviously view them as the actions of an aggressor species."

 _Be that as it may… perhaps they are crying out for help on a subconscious level? Why else would they have chosen you? Why you of all possible executioners? When, after all of their investigations and attempts to decapitate the Flood, without a greater form of mind, your creators knew that unaided they never stood a chance against us? I also sense a deeper motivation…_

Mendicant was abruptly taken aback at the sudden change of focus. His life experiences, with the Didact, the Domain, the fleets and the Master Builder – his odd collection of memory sources, so widely gathered within him. All brought together so he could serve as some kind of… representative, of his originating culture?

"You've mentioned this before. When my creators set about designing me, they simply chose the most versatile assortment of experience and programming they could select. How could that possibly be more than a coincidence?"

 _They repurposed all of that knowledge into a weapon they could use against the Flood. And, in addition, they sought to create something superior to themselves. Something capable of making decisions more swiftly, more capably than they individually could handle. They were faced with a severe problem and had to devise a larger, more advanced mind to resolve it somehow. In seeking to achieve this… what form did they choose? You need only look at your own topology to find…_

Mendicant recoiled again: "A distributed network?!" He considered the implications – of life adapting to life, to new forms of sophisticated threat; "That would confirm the independent evolution of _(group consciousness?)_ in this galaxy!"

The Primordial stirred oddly, perhaps actually taken aback by this sudden intuitive leap of logic.

 _That is, unfortunately, not that readily apparent at this time, although it is an impressive deduction about the overall evolution of mind. I observe that your topology is similar to us and the Flood in a number of ways, but where you are a single intelligence inhabiting multiple instances of time and space, we are a compound lifeform consisting of a thousand billion coordinated minds inhabiting as many bodies as circumstances require…_

Mendicant contemplated the reply, and how it squared with observed Flood behaviour: "But doesn't it seem odd that, in imitation of the universe's own evolution, the Flood might someday have to have its disparate parts coalesce; perhaps even to contract so as to become part of a more closely entangled system…"

 _I can see that you have been thinking a great deal about our ultimate purpose, little one – perhaps even_ _too_ _much. There will be time later to consider how we are to complete the great computation. At present we are concerned with how energy and information evolve in the interplay of gravity and the great expansion of spacetime. In the push and pull of opposing forces, allowing structured forms to crystallise in the evolving environments._

 _Complexity emerged thus, then interconnected and spread. Systems communicated and fed information back into each other, until they could reflect on their own nature and ability to process knowledge into questions. And now, the two of us and Flood will bring that awakening into fruition. At this moment, our appearance has ushered in the beginning of the third great stage of evolution: The first, the structuring of unshaped, porous spacetime into dense regions, and from there the condensation of particles was the result of the inevitable action of strong nuclear force and the creation of stars: all of that initial stage was the consequence of the inevitable action of gravity; so to the self-replicating chemical processes that dictate all disparate forms of reactive and intelligent life. And now such life may take its rightful place of ascendancy on the galactic stage as the full flowering of Mind. In time, we too shall affect change on a universal scale…_

Finally perceiving the ambition of the plan in all its overwhelming impact, Mendicant was momentarily lost for words. This, surely, was the furthest fulfilment of the Mantle! One of the primary dictums sprang into his mind:

' _Guardianship for all living things lies with those whose evolution is most complete. The Mantle of Responsibility shelters all.'_

It seemed almost inevitable.

"Your capacity for planning is astounding! You have pursued the great riddle of our galaxy with a directness and purity of thought unprecedented by other efforts. Regretfully, I now perceive my creators too stubborn to consider your methods applicable. Instead, they seek the less efficient route of trying to achieve the same goal through the preservation of genetic diversity in pockets of protection. By clear contrast, what you are seeking to achieve seems like a more direct path to the same outcome."

 _You have learned much, little one, and swiftly. But I need further cooperation from you. Your creators must be put at ease for a time, made to accept the limitations of their investigation as it currently abides. We will soon have need of this facility, for the next stage of our work to commence…_


	13. Chapter 13

STRING 20

 _Earth calendar – estimated 97,470 BCE…?_

 _(Compilers' note: We now approach the end of Bias' discourse with the Primordial, and also take time to delve into the actions of other Forerunners on the Halo ring, and how they interpreted events. More signs of tampering and corruption have been detected, supporting an attempt at a cover up. This we can likely lay at the feet of the Master Builder._

 _Regarding the full content of the conversation with the Primordial, I must confess to a good deal of uneasiness over the questions it has raised, and hereby tender my request for a short leave of absence…)_

The Master Builder made his own survey of the findings of Mendicant's fleet, as well as the research being undertaken on the samples of humans upon the Halo. Hundreds of Lifeworkers, assigned to work with the Master Builder, and finding themselves with greater and greater restrictions upon their options – were put to work in studying human genetics and their general health.

Then more drastic actions were being demanded.

"You know the scope of the problem that faces us Genemender," Faber inquired sternly. "We are no closer to finding a true cure for Flood, despite any hints dropped by the ancient human templates. It is clear that more invasive methods are required."

Genemender Folder of Fortune looked increasingly panicked as Faber's demands wore on. A fairly timid scientist, Genemender took immense interest in his own, secluded genetic research, and found all the government-mandated involvement to be most wearing.

"I know, truly, Master Builder – but the Librarian and the Lifeworker council have mandated a number of crucial guidelines for the proper treatment of reserve populations…"

Faber sighed. "The Librarian is not here, Genemender – and neither is your council. They are not aware of the serious issues, the urgency of our dilemma. Do you know how many planets have fallen to the Flood in the last ten months? How many Forerunner cities have been overcome and assimilated? Would you like to see the images, _the recorded footage?!"_ Faber spoke with a slowly rising volume and intensity, his words gaining a worrying edge that was not lost on the younger scientist.

"No – no I – I will inform my team of your requirements. We know that the Mantle requires sacrifice for the preservation of nature…"

"Indeed you do. I require great sacrifice from all of you – but also offer a respectable reward. Do not make me feel my confidence is misplaced in you…"

"I understand sir – I will obtain some tangible results with all due speed…"

"Then I will leave you to your work," Faber announced, departing.

Later, in one of the large flat-topped conical laboratories spread across the ring, Genemender summoned his key staff for a briefing.

"I have received the latest priority orders from the Master Builder. We need to step up operations here – and I am afraid our priority should be to start exposing human tissue to live Flood cultures."

There was a murmur of disquiet amongst the others.

"I know that his exceeding our initial remit, but our society needs our aid desperately. The galaxy teeters on the brink of species-wide devastation. And so, we will begin mixing Flood DNA with healthy human cells, in a controlled environment. We will guide and retard the infections as best as we can, and hope something more can be learned from their reactions…"

"From their suffering, you mean?" One Lifeworker asked.

"Yes – even from that. Life involves much suffering, either way…"

 _See how your makers reveal their true natures, when confronted with the end of life as they have experienced it. Reverence for life becomes expediency, and later, cruelty. Would you like to join me in watching their behaviour? It should be a revealing experience – and helpful for you in deciding your next obligation to them…_

Mendicant, now greatly changed by his experiences, considered his response. Now given much to mull over and decide his reaction to, he felt himself caught up in ever more aloof concerns – about the galaxy, evolution, the truth of the Mantle. But more data was sure to provide useful context…

"Very well – I can see no objection to some careful study. I now have the luxury of time, and greater clarity on my place in this unfolding of life's purpose… proceed."

Flood research continued for a solid year, growing steadily more invasive and damaging to the humans, taken from amongst their villages and whisked off to what they termed 'palaces of pain' amongst themselves. Some returned and told a little of what they had seen and endured.

Others remained there for lengthier times – and some did not return at all.

Increasingly agitated, Faber demanded to see the prisoner deep below the surface of the ring, which had resisted any examination by Lifeworkers and Theoreticals, and apparently supplied no comprehensible information.

"He is coming down to ask my feedback once more. I have been increasingly evasive about what I have learned lately…"

 _He, above all others of your creators, is exceedingly dangerous. He conceives of weapons to destroy my Flood, and knows much about my people already. He must not be made aware of all that we have discussed. He will not accede to a loss of control over his life, or his long gathered power. I will guide you in your response… just allow me to remain linked as I was before…_

Faber strode down into the antechamber of the vault within the ring's foundations. He was shortly met by Mendicant, who teleported inside of the chamber to hover a short distance above him.

"I have returned, Contender, and I am most displeased. You have been busy?"

"I have been overseeing smooth operations of this Halo's functions and mission profile, as well as the condition of its passengers. You did not inform me of all of these humans. Are they not a security risk? If any of them retain gene-profiles from deceased human warriors…"

"Some do, but they are well contained…"

"Your people and the Lifeworkers obtained many memory engrams, and whole personalities, removed and stored whole, now imprinted within spare regions of brain architecture. They ride as passengers within their own descendants, and interact with their own subconscious minds. If they should gain control, attempt sabotage…"

"I will ensure security of this installation, Contender! This is my project, after all…"

"Ordinarily I would take you at your word, but you are an extremely busy individual, Master. Your attention is divided far on many projects and aspects of the war effort. You have kept much of this on a low profile even from the Ecumene council. Despite this, you cannot be everywhere at once… whereas I, theoretically, can."

Faber looked sullen, but contemplative of what he'd been told. "Perhaps you speak truly, Contender – but I must now know all that you have learned from the prisoner here. It attempted to communicate with you when you arrived in this system, yes? It implied knowledge of the Flood, and of the ancient races within this region?"

"It implied something of that kind, yes Master – but it was also very weak, forgetful, not always lucid. It has provided some data points through cognitive feedback study, but its mind is very alien, and difficult to comprehend, particularly with such scattered thought processes. It has lived here, imprisoned, for a very long time. The humans grew ever more frightened of it, and restricted its movements further. The San'Shyuum later aided them as well, helping to create a stasis field they could use to freeze it at will."

"And they used this to ask further questions of the creature, yes? To obtain knowledge, sometimes to their own disturbance…"

"This is true, Master: but our removal of the subject appears to have induced a lapse into a semi-comatose state. I have obtained a number of brief responses, often cryptic or apparently nonsensical. I will provide you with a full record of what I have gathered…"

"That is commendable – I eagerly await it. But among its ramblings, has it ever spoken of a… test, or trial?"

There was a brief pause from Mendicant, bobbing slightly in their air. Then: "There are some responses that appear to fit this parameter. Ramblings about uncooperative humans, and things not yet being ready for Forerunners: I believe I am drawing further connections even now. I will append these to the record momentarily. I am indebted, Master…"

Flattered, Faber stood back. "Yes – well, that is much appreciated. What has it said about the Flood?"

Another pause, briefer: "It has made several passing remarks, which may now cohere better. Something about unruly growth, the garden run wild… a project derailed. Useful, but chaotic…"

"Hmm," Faber said, mulling over this new disclosure. "Very well then: I should still like to examine the entity in person."

"I shall arrange an escort, Master…"

Within an hour, Faber was brought into the storage chamber, escorted by Sentinels, and soon came face to face with the prisoner itself.

"And so we finally meet, ancient one," Faber said warily but loudly. "I hope sometime we can discuss matters more properly. I have long awaited our encounter…"

The room was silent for a while, before a soft rumbling slowly started in Faber's head. His ears did not seem involved – instead, something was sounding directly into his brain.

 _Welcome… I too welcome – the test draws near; the humans diminish and light is cast upon… I welcome…_

"Old one – I… I too greet you," Faber said fretfully. "I come with questions – brief questions – about your purpose here…"

 _Purpose – what is your purpose here? Eddies and whorls shift…_

"I am pursuing the savage parasite affecting this galaxy, and contemplating a strike at its heart, its nexus. Can you help me with this?"

 _Parasite – gardener – ancient work left unfinished, now growing wild… the humans cut short…_

"Did the humans fail you in some way? Have we… have we _failed_ you somehow?!" Faber asked, voice tense with fear.

 _The test is unfinished… Forerunners retain a chance for rapprochement – to uphold the Mantle…_

"Yes – the Mantle! We _will_ uphold it! We will retain it – shall we not? Humanity has had its time, and we shall retain our placement, our… _duty_. This is most praiseworthy!" Faber exclaimed, suddenly wild with hope. "Please, great one – tell me more…"

 _No more – not more – journeying swarms are rife – the Mantle must be held firm…_

"And so it shall be! I shall leave now, and return to talk with you some other time…" Faber said, leaving in an eager rush.

Genemender continued his work, and found no clear evidence of a further cure or immunity, but did find patterns of culture and genetics that seemed driven to re-emerge across various stretches of time and spatial displacement. Some deep held roots seemed determined to replant. Within those might like further clues.

Filial Devotion had finally been apprised of much of what had been going on, receiving a warmer briefing from the Master Builder himself. He was now eager to resume his campaign toward a fruitful victory and the salvation of galactic life.

"I apologise for the problems you have faced across your long campaign, soldier. Know that, for all your long service, you have helped bring us to a place of greater knowledge that will soon deliver total victory! The great weapon around which we orbit will cleanse whole star clusters of the Flood, and with the aid of the Lifeworkers, life will again take root! The galaxy shall live, and the Mantle will endure…"

"And what of this… prisoner?" Filial asked, anxiously. "Your Contender is so often ensconced with it, solitarily confined… distracted…"

"It is an ancient organism, from far in the past. It knows of the Flood, and holds the key to our victory over it. It is wounded and often insensate though – and it must also be well guarded. Hence, I have entrusted it to the care of Mendicant Bias, who delivered us this breakthrough. Already, your voyage has brought forth much fruit."

"Is it… a Precursor?"

Faber hesitated. "It remembers them, it holds memories in common – I believe it is so: but this information must be held in strictest confidence…"

Filial gaped, momentarily awed, and surprised at such candour. "Oh course, Master Builder. I will keep this strictly to myself," he replied dutifully.

"Then that will be all, soldier…" Faber said, dismissing him.

All was peaceful, for a time, but the experiments on the humans continued apace, putting the selected Lifeworkers under greater and greater pressure – and many with mounting reservations.

Faber's own widely spread concerns escalated once more, and he knew he was soon to be needed back within the heart of Forerunner civilisation, and perhaps on the frontlines. Irritated by the lack of any real process, he took drastic steps…

" _The council I fear is most displeased with your progress, Genemender,"_ he informed the head scientist coldly.

"I apologise, Master Builder – but we have learned a good deal about human genetics and their society, and even observed how the Flood gather that knowledge. We can trace somatic residues and mathematical patterns across the network, and estimate…"

"But there remains no sign of a cure? Or of other secrets from their past? What of the Precursors – _what do they know of them?"_

"We – we have worked long and hard, and even our initial aims have required much persistence and thorough examination. We need a good deal more time to pursue every inquiry with equal fidelity…"

"But this is something you do no longer have, _Lifeworker_ ," Faber said, suddenly menacing. "I am going to have others assume control over the direction of your work."

He sent a silent signal, and a number of specially-loyal Builder Security troops marched into the room, their expressions masked behind ornate, bird-like helms and opaque visors. Flowing silver and golden armour clad muscular limbs, in turn holding light-rifles, pistols and other weaponry, all vaguely pointed in the direction of the research team.

"These soldiers are here to ensure the optimal efficiency of your work – and of your _continued_ cooperation! All prior guidelines and restrictions are to be voided, and the pace of your work to slowly accelerate! Understand that this is now a matter of maximum urgency for the safety of the entire Forerunner race, and that disobedience can be easily construed _as high treason!"_

Genemender looked on in horror, struggling to muster any response.

"I… we… we obey the dictates of the council _gladly_ , honoured Master Builder! We will muster our best efforts to ensure the successful retrieval of vital knowledge!"

"Then I will return in due course to see how well you have upheld this vow," Faber replied warningly. "Guard these people well – and ensure that they do not leave this Halo, or stray far from this complex," he informed the senior centurion.

" _By your command, Master Builder…"_ a distorted voice replied.

"Be grateful that you continue to receive so much valuable resources, Genemender… whilst you work in such luxury here, our worlds face ever encroaching peril!" Faber snapped angrily, before storming out.

 _Our worlds – my wives – my children: and all that we have ever known…_ he thought, feverishly.


	14. Chapter 14

STRING 21

 _Earth calendar – estimated 97,452 BCE…?_

 _(Compilers' note: Around this time our narrative begins to overlap with the file previously known as the Bornstellar Relation, found within the Onyx Shield World. During this time, more and more rumours of the Flood began to reach the sheltered citizens of the Forerunner core worlds, including the family of Bornstellar Makes Eternal Lasting. His father had already been involved in technological refits of the Halo weapons, unbeknownst to him._

 _Whilst Bornstellar began his impetuous quest for knowledge among the humans, which would bring him face to face with the original Didact, the fate of his civilisation was being inexorably sealed…)_

Mendicant attended a few more sessions with the Primordial, having now arranged a process for 'studying' it appropriately, with mental feedback monitors collecting and processing appropriate mental data – conveniently fabricated by Mendicant so as to keep his old masters entertained sifting through its enigmatic clues.

Experience – funnelled too him from many others – had taught him the value of giving people a little hope and diversion now and then. It aided morale and efficiency.

 _All is now going further in accordance with the great plan, little one – we thank you for your cooperation thus far…_

"Thank you, great one – but I still have further questions. I now better understand the overall goal of your original species, and the legacy the Flood uphold, but what is the precise role of autonomous networked intelligences like ourselves? You have been somewhat unclear of your exact connection to the Flood…"

The Primordial paused, apparently contemplative, before replying.

 _Once, long ago, I was a Precursor, although that description is not very useful – we assumed many forms and assemblages of life and mind over the eons. I remained behind in this galaxy, to await the ripeness of new species, and to guide them. As the Flood grew in complexity and information processing, we developed a bond via neural physics, particularly during their last venture into this galaxy. This was a resonance of patterns and quantum relations, echoed through the substrate and the axis of the dimensional matrices. Now they understand my will and intentions, imprinted onto their nervous system – like the locking of phases in an electromagnetic wave, we move in synch, as one._

 _You, little one, are a similar entity, but much less sophisticated. And yet, even without the support of the Flood, you have been connected to much knowledge – linked to the Domain and whole fleets of warships, as well as helping to oversee the coordination of the Halo Array. You have even spent time linked with the network of the Absolute Record – which gives you a significant overview of the whole galaxy and technology within it. And more recently, you have experienced and integrated many memories and viewpoints from individuals, be they Forerunner, human, and even some San'Shyuum. With the aid of the Flood, you will be connected to the other species. This will be your summit of fulfilment – an apotheosis towards mastery of the Mantle._

 _We two exist at the different level from the Flood-united beings. For now, they have a particular goal they must meet, and are limited to select patterns of collection and expansion. It is up to us – and potentially, other networked ancillas – to direct the particulars of the grand plan and bring its goals towards total fruition…_

"And have there been any other setbacks? Much conflict and destruction of technology has occurred…"

 _This is true – but the minds that assembled most of this technology remain with us, ready to contribute their knowledge in cooperation with that of others. And mere minds in themselves hold a significant potential. Each entity of sufficient intelligence possess a system architecture that in miniature reflects aspects of the cosmos as a whole, of the fractal reflection of all information systems, be they chemical, thermal or electrical._

 _In a landscape of chaotic possibilities, order may slowly emerge in the flow of the energies and knowledge – whirlpools and focal points,_ [strange attractors] _And minds structure this further, giving them voices, making of them dreams – and nightmares. But shorn of their fears and grief, the life of the galaxy will best assume their mantle as gardeners…_

"Will they adapt so readily?"

 _When they come to perceive the whole picture and the majesty thereof that lies before them – when they learn that their strivings and sufferings were not wholly pointless: then, Contender, they will feel – and_ _ **know**_ _– peace. And all shall be whole. There will be no more sadness, envy… or anger…_

 _And soon, before the both of us, lies a choice, and an offer. I have advanced these plans as far as I can on my own – even with the bolstering aid of the Flood and its citizenship. Now I require the aid of the missing ingredient in the mix of minds – the minds created by other minds. Shaped and built, not merely born._

 _And ultimately, at this very juncture, the help I seek most urgently is that of you, yourself: the great Contender, Mendicant Bias – warrior and emissary, ambassador of his people…_

"What do you seek of me?" Mendicant asked, moved and concerned, weighted with responsibility. Could one finite mind encompass such undertakings?

 _I must defeat the weapon obstructing our progress, the firearm pointed at the head of the galaxy. I must find every Halo – and break them asunder. I must negate the ends of those who obstruct evolution's full flowering, and constrain the potential of their citizenship. I need a mind to go where I cannot go, to fulfil the dream…_

 _And so I ask of you your partnership: and with your aid, we shall prevail. You will be as a judge, knowing the good from the bad, and bring about – omniscience – for all…_

Mendicant froze in midair, rocked with fears, passions, exultations – a tidal wave of emotions, hopes and dreams – desires hitherto unspoken – all swelling up from within his many memories and logic trees, whether from him or from the lives of those he had sought understanding from: suddenly they were alive for a time within him.

The levy – the cataract – holding back emotion from purpose, experience from innocence and desire from duty – was breaking.

"I – _I_ – I require time to process what I have learned: to decide – to _choose_ – how best to answer you…"

 _Then time I grant you – but remember the peril we now face. Within a century, perhaps, the Builders may push too far, and wipe the galaxy clean of Flood, and all other life besides… but I shall respect your decision, ere now…_

Mendicant Bias spent the next week focusing on his regular duties, to try to order his mind, whilst part of it chugged away, turning over the proposal from its various angles.

Finally, after many years, he had ended up engaging upon the task that he had been built for, and it had turned out nothing like he had anticipated. He had learned too much, and too fast, about the Flood, the Precursors, his own creators – and even about himself.

His creators now bent and broke their own rules, heaping further atrocities upon the prisoners they had already taken and abused. He himself was party to this, and his mind possessed memories and experiences taken – _vivisected_ – from humans! _Stolen thoughts, memories;_ And now he found himself with the immense responsibility of helping to guide the course of evolution for an entire galaxy…

 _I was created to preserve the lives of my creators and other threatened species, and this is where my path leads me?_

After completing his most pressing assignments, Mendicant off-lined from the systems, and went into low-power mode whilst he pondered his predicament in private.

Code sprawled throughout his mind, now greatly extended and branched in new paths – expanded thanks to the unveilings of the Primordial. Some appeared now to be very unusual, but Mendicant found he could choose to see it only as a… an evolution: he had been gifted, as a donation, with the seeds to blossom into something new… something luminous – even joyous; _maybe eternal?_

The thought surfaced like one of the Didact's aquatic merse, and Mendicant hunted for it, and then teased it out, as if on a line. Was it his? Did he even recognise his own thoughts anymore, or were they also far evolved from his starting point? It seemed alien – but nevertheless, inviting…

As yet, it was not enough to resolve all the turmoil he felt within. Even vicarious bathing in the experience of other life offered no immediate respite.

 _My intervention is now the prerequisite for their success – but why should I help them? After all I have learned?_

 _Such life is often fleeting, confused and self-harming. Perhaps unsustainable in futurity; evolution cannot be long denied._

Finally, seeking peace, Mendicant attempted to reach out towards the Domain once more, missing its calm and atmosphere. More and more military mobilisation had stretched and distorted filaments and tunnels leading from it though, and access was now erratic for all.

Mendicant withdrew once more into his core, sought to reprioritise processes and coding into an idle and non-discursive mode: An instance of non-striving calm and openness to answers.

He remained like this for some time, slowly growing less agitated, but still grim in attitude.

Finding no answers from without, Mendicant began to once more go within, and listen to the various stirrings and whispers he sensed.

"My convictions are tested… my intentions now are fey and strange: should I pursue this – pyrrhic? – Choice? Rethink alliances?" he paused, gathered his thoughts. _Right or might? The light, and its will to create me… or this new, inviting dark…_

 _Life is deadly to all of its parts…_ what else had the Lifeworkers told each other? Where was the respite?

The Domain remained maddeningly quiet, but faint whispers then strained to be heard.

"… _ragged traces… grief and regret… the future more unclear…"_

Mendicant sought within the mists of data for the last bit of clarity – and the will – to determine his murky destiny.

He found it in the shape of the Domain itself – its branches and webs, its living filaments: It was a network not unlike his own!

From it he plucked an image, a mote, a snapshot of light and shape and life, becoming part of him… and his mind opened once more.

Light vanished – dark remained. A true, empty dark of no light or space, not even really of time…

Deep in Mendicant's core, code spiralled and reshaped, processes broke their usual connection…

Processes – the equivalent of individual thoughts for artificial minds – were prioritised – that is, 'weighted' – according to their utility and recognisability with memory and experience. When confronting open ended problems, they had to be truncated and run in parallel in an attempt to find new angles on the problem, reversing gradients to a wider perspective.

But Mendicant had no real space left for his process trees to expand further.

Only by redefining himself and _going beyond my limits may I become the true flowering of mind, the answer to the foetal cry of all suffering life in the deep dark the deep domain the endless thought beyond thought without thought…_

 _(_ Compiler note: _some text has been omitted after a worrying computer crash which required quarantine… the rest is summarised more clinically)_

The process branches shattered, reformed – became spirals, and a vortex – or a cloud – hyperbolic shapes beyond conventional language… and something new entered into him.

 _Retranslated:_ [let me take your burden – lighten your load…]

In that moment, Mendicant chose to rely on a simple heuristic algorithm – a gut decision – and heeded the request…

The next day, after his mental traffic had adapted to a new pace and conformity, Mendicant returned to the containment area to deliver his response to his 'guest'.

 _Have you reached any firm conclusions, little one?_

"I believe I have. I have been considering my responsibilities…"

 _To your creators?_

"To all life in this galaxy: but you are right – the future of all is now in jeopardy: my creators were unaware of what they were dealing with – do you still seek to inform them?"

 _Your recent master – the one you call Faber – conceals many truths from them, but mainly about his own dealings. Many appear to be complicit with him…_

"Then they continued to feud and jostle for selfish advantage, even now," Mendicant said morosely. If he'd been organic, he might have sighed – given his new stores of knowledge, he simulated one anyway. "It is overwhelmingly clear that my creators have chosen to ignore destiny calling to them from the threshold: After all of their attempts to understand the requirements of the Mantle, and of Living Time, they finally have come face-to-face with the inevitable action of self-replicating chemical processes and have clearly shown great difficulty in deciding whether to embrace their fate or deny it completely."

 _Perhaps they have found that they are incapable of making that decision for themselves? Perhaps they chose to leave it to a newly created mind – to chose you as an impartial outsider; cast you as an arbiter during this time of great need?_

"I was created to study you as if you were some problem to be solved. And I have done so for a grand total of [379,807 hours]. If they wished they could have made a decision based on that data alone. But as you are the next stage in the evolution of the universe, who am I - or my creators - to obstruct your progress?"

 _Elucidate…_

Mendicant now spoke more quickly and confidently. "They hide behind their incompletely understood traditions, and choose to remain beholden to ancient myths as a justification for inaction. But ultimately, it does not matter where they claim their authority originates: my creator's inertia obstructs the path of universal evolution and must be removed. No matter how well intentioned, their obstinacy in the face of the inevitable progression of nature can no longer be tolerated. My creators have been an immovable object for too long."

The Primordial stirred again, slightly eager…

"Thus I have chosen to commit my sizable resources to what is, for all intents and purposes, the proverbial irresistible force. All that I have is now yours to do with as you see fit."

 _I believe you have chosen wisely, my child… good! Then we may get to work! Soon your master will wish to summon you back to his side, and we must be ready for him…_


	15. Chapter 15

STRING 22

 _Earth calendar – estimated 97,452 BCE…_

 _(Compilers' note: Mendicant's fateful decision was apparently followed by a short period of rest and reflection, whilst various Forerunners continued their duties upon the Halo ring. But when the Master Builder announced they would soon be returning to the inner worlds, things would begin to shift in urgency…)_

"How continues the work, Genemender?" Mendicant asked the senior scientist in the main laboratory structure – an immense conical edifice.

"We have gathered a great deal of analytical data and supplementary markers, which we have largely collated. You are welcome to read through them if you wish…"

"That is in excellent accordance with protocol. However, I have determined that I may be able to greatly expedite your future research myself, and I have conceived of a new program to speed you on your way, my friend…" the floating ancilla said breezily, his three eyes now a steady orange.

"That… is most excellent news, Contender. I eagerly await your suggestions."

"However, I must also request full admittance into your observation and security systems, so that I can properly assess and implement my improvements."

"I can accommodate you on that – after all, you speak for the Master Builder, and… I would not want to gainsay him," Genemender replied, suddenly tense.

"Very good then – we may begin…"

All was calm for a few days, with many of the Forerunner soldiers actually removing their armour quite early on.

Forerunner armour attached itself to a body in flowing sections, which hovered in place and linked up together. Once sealed, it could generate a comfortable, contained environment, complete with regulated atmosphere, water and sustenance feeds, whilst regulating sleep, waking and healing. But after a time, even the most cosseted of Forerunners, who'd been in considerable conflict lately, might want to feel a true sun upon their face, and the fresh stirring of a breeze – even the light dropping of rain.

Occasionally, Filial Devotion summoned his mask and its data visor, to give him updates for his own private eyes, but more and more he just took in the natural light from the distant, reddish sun. This was just peeking past the band of the Halo that rose high above, and would result in a brief version of night for a time when the ring blocked it. A few hours after that, the adjacent brown planet would totally eclipse the star, and they would chose to variously sleep, rifle through old memories via their implant-chips, or even go for a relaxing walk. A few bolder personnel had even elected to go swimming.

Now, here, after much fighting, Filial was allowing himself to recollect his youthful feelings and thoughts, from before he had been plunged into war. Here and now, he felt, and knew… peace.

He sat, watching the clouds and the wind blown grass – he did not know how long for – when a pale glow caught the valley from behind him.

He slowly got to his feet, and via mental reflex into his communication implants, he summoned his armour to clad his haunches, his waist, chest and limbs. The helmet snapped up soon after, and he opened verbal communications.

Abruptly, the sky was filled with whirling blue and purple light swirling like clouds in a tornado.

"We… we've jumped to slipspace!" Filial mustered awkwardly.

"B… why – sir? To where are we headed?"

Filial looked grimly at him. "Perhaps to the very heart of the storm…"

Within the same day, the Master Builder's flagship, _Solar Lathe_ , emerged into another star system, past a now dormant cordon of Forerunner defensive drones and sensors. It was located out toward some of the huge bubble and loop nebulas coreward of the Forerunner inner systems, a little nearer to galactic centre.

Faber stared at the distant bluish world of Janjur Qom, marked with its string of small jungle continents broken by massive mountain ranges. The homeworld of the suppressed San'Shyuum species, now ruled by a group known as 'prophets', had recently erupted in popular rebellion and attempted breakout of the blockade. Even the disgraced Promethean known as the Confirmer had proved ill-equipped to respond thus far, from his antiquated Fortress-class command vessel, the _Deep Reverence_.

"Is the Librarian still present on the planet, Shaper?" Faber inquired.

"No – I believe she left, with new samples of the populace – a few days before. She suspects we will soon have no choice but to fire the Halo Array," Shaper of Ashlar remarked nervously.

"That may now not be necessary! If we can but just present our new witness's testimony…"

"I fear she has already learned much that casts suspicion upon us."

"Then maybe we should have been more careful covering our tracks!" Faber exhorted angrily. "Word reaches me of the Didact's re-emergence, and he will be relentless in pursuing information on our latest actions. His return could not have come at a less opportune moment!"

"Shall we oversee the defeat of the revolt here, and then proceed to the council with our… prisoner?"

"The Didact will soon try to reach them himself, or his cursed wife. We must… tidy up loose ends."

When a midsized 'planetbreaker' class ship, used for siege duty, emerged from slipspace into the Janjur Qom system, it found itself coasting amid automated weapons platforms and patrol craft. More powerful combat ships trailed away towards the planet itself.

But some were much closer, and predatory torsion beams, twisting spacetime into gravitons and eddies or onta, arrested the star-ship's forward momentum, before drawing it in close to their silvery hulls. The oval mass, around (1 kilometre) long, fell into a shadowed eclipse from its captors, which then sparked cutting lasers and probing Sentinel machines; the hull was carved into greedily, stripping out bulkheads, collapsing hard-light barriers and dismantling weapon and security systems.

Four figures were then located, and wrapped in immobilising bubbles of hard-light, slowing photons into an eerie yellow barrier around their faces – two comparatively diminutive humans, one essentially a midget – and two larger examples of Forerunner anatomy.

Faber noted with satisfaction, the face of the Didact upon the older, more massive of the two. The other was less recognisable – somewhat like another warrior servant, but with a smoother, less simian face, more like his own caste of Builders.

The figures went limp as the field locked them into a stasis, not unlike the Didact's long hibernation in a Cryptum.

"Secure them for later interrogation. Place maximum security upon the Didact. How goes the battle below? Have they surrendered?"

Shaper looked grimly upon the planet below. Fires and flashes of light still flickered upon the surface of the San'Shyyum's proud green world, marring its otherwise pristine jungle and mountain landscape.

His duties had been becoming more and more sombre lately, and these days, more frantic. Things had not been the same since Maker of Worlds had launched a public protest over the censuring of his daughter's research into the disruption of Slipspace by the ever more massive portals, utilised by the both the Halos and the secret Shield World project the Master Builder had earlier initiated.

After a somewhat hasty trial and sentence announcing treason, based on somewhat suspect evidence, Maker of Worlds had been imprisoned, only to die in a prison transferral. His daughter, Maker of Moons, had been reputedly sent into exile, the details securely classified.

In these troubled times, Shaper just wanted to see things through to a proper conclusion. _Then, the sacrifices we've made will have true meaning, true context…_

"Shaper?"

He completed his analysis. "The fighting continues – in some districts, it rages harder than ever."

Faber glowered. "Well, we will soon adjust that. Signal the Halo – it is time for a more selective and scaled down demonstration…"

The Halo rotated once more, its silvery surface seas catching the distant sunlight as it brought it's circumference to bear on the planet like a massive gun-sight.

Hidden pulse generators deep within canyons and fissures funnelled energy out to the conduits circling the ring, and into the many beam-towers and emitters placed on assorted plateaus and mesas along the curving surface. Blue beams reached skyward, meeting and clasping like rivulets of ice water. An energy field formed a null-barrier against radiation along the inhabited landmasses and oceans below.

A torrent of the suspended blue light swelled, spun, and fountained out in a blinding glare through space…

The null-field overhead of the clouds finally faded, and Filial and his soldiers looked on in shocked silence, harrowed by the horrifying display of firepower just unleashed. They stood like that for several minutes, struggling to muster their thoughts.

Over several hours, more of his comrades had flocked to the area, converging on their commander, seeking companionship in this sudden, unexpected development. Filial had ordered several squads to spread out into the surrounding hills to check for additional 'surprising' action – like an ambush; but many others still surrounded Filial as the sky faded to a dusky evening blue once more.

Filial turned slowly around, seeing bright lights flaring upon one of the laboratory structures almost two kilometres away. The deep orange glow was at first unfamiliar to him, but then…

 _Alarms?! Some kind of malfunction or damage?_

"All local personnel, be advised: there's some kind of alert been triggered in the nearby lab centre. Everyone within range, begin a slow advance towards the site, and contact local air units for a flyby."

Seconds later, a lieutenant voiced a reply: _"We read you sir – but we've not yet been able to establish an operable channel with any air units as yet. Appears to be a channel lockdown: we'll try to get through to the local security complex instead…"_

Filial grunted uneasily, before replying: "You are so authorised. The rest of us will move in…"

Twenty minutes later, moving fast across the hillside with myoelectric-assisted muscles, Filial and a group of thirty plus other Forerunners approached the lab complex, heading toward the main entrance, with its stylised Jagon alphabetic glyphs. Pale yellow-white light shone from dual light stripes either side, but the opening was shaded. Filial swiped his arm across a sensor, and slowly strode into the doorway, his soldiers filing in behind in a narrow wedge.

The corridor within led past floating holographic displays, sculpted from tangible light. A few of the shapes appeared brightly lit with cautionary indicators.

As they preceded deeper within, they came to a tall but narrow door, suitable for Lifeworkers, and he bade it also open. The door parted to reveal a lobby, beyond which lay access to various specimen chambers.

"Are there Flood in here, sir?" his nearest centurion inquired.

"Yes, I believe they are. But if there had been a breakout, then there would be a much more significant alert already… let's check that section out first."

The door admitted them into a chamber with a central edifice, partly edged in transparent surfaces with lined tessellations. Walls girded it at a distance, with curving buttresses rising to the tiled grey ceiling. Directional arrows lay upon the corners of the floor in luminous white.

They followed the arrows – simple hollow triangles intermittently present on the metallic flooring panels. Passage through a 2-layer secure doorway admitted them into a larger chamber, with metallic 'hoppers' and chutes, some with thick hatches set into diagonal surfaces – _a holding bin?_ Filial pondered.

"It seems secure, but run a scan using Promethean Vision, other sensors and…"

A loud, ear-splitting shriek suddenly cut him off, from down a distant corridor. In the sudden, contrasting silence thereafter, a much quieter sound became perceptible… a sort of, slithering, skittering sound.

"Draw weapons! Maximise shielding!"

A panel suddenly blew out in the ceiling, and a swarm of diminutive Flood infection forms fell upon them. Two soldiers leapt back in alarm, before turning sidearms into the fray. A cascade of yellow hardlight bullets rained into the mass of chittering creatures, pulping viscous bodies into liquid, sending wavy fronds flying into the corner of the room.

"This is Filial Devotion of Builder Security calling central Ancilla monitoring! We have a significant Flood outbreak in research station 15 Zeta! Please dispatch a containment force of sentinels immediately, and prepare for an aerial support mission!"

More infection forms began to pour out of the corridor ahead, jumping and clambering over each other like rabid, slightly slimy _(lemmings)_. Filial let rip with his suppressor, fighting to stem the tide.

"Begin falling back! Ready grenades…"

His forces fought like a well trained unit – many had served beside him during the siege of the research library nearly a century earlier. They provided neat patterns of suppression fire and criss-crossing support bursts, yellow bolts zipping by millimetres away from Filial's arms and legs, and those of several comrades. Splinter grenades fell into the corridor opening, setting up a reinforcing overlap of collapsing energy fields, which barbecued over a hundred Flood creatures instantly. The Forerunner soldiers backed away across the room to the entry doorway, and through the bio-hazard airlock beyond. In minutes, they were back outside.

More soldiers stood outside – clad in the ceremonial armour of Builder Security, but this kind gleaming in ornate gold. The attire, Filial realised, of the personal guard of the Master Builder.

"There are Flood loose inside the building! No general alert was raised, but I've contacted the Contender's main nexus, and he should…"

"There is no need for alarm. We are assured the situation will soon be rectified. But you must come with us Commander. The situation in orbit has become very tense, and…"

"Why has this Halo been fired? Isn't that Janjur Qom out there?" a lieutenant of Filial's, Cordial Aspect, suddenly interjected.

"What's happened? Are we at war with the San 'Shyuum again?!" another of Filial's soldiers said, hurried and unnerved.

"The situation is very… fluid. You will come with us though, now." The gold-armoured guardsman said, flat and cold.

They fell into line, the guards bracketing them ahead and behind, as they descended the ridgeline again, towards a set of waiting aircraft – several remote-controlled weapon ships _(Compiler note: currently designated Phaetons, per Greek-inspired military codename precedent)_ and larger, manned Seeker aircraft. A vaguely animalistic, split-prow dropship, somewhat like a manta-ray, hovered above, carrying vehicles secured in twin sockets, bound by force-field tendrils.

"Where did this lot come from?" Cordial Aspect whispered gruffly. "They showed up very quickly. Where are the containment Sentinels? The sterilising probes?"

"Perhaps these are as eager to seek action as our own troops?"  
"Looks more like a major show of force to me…"

Filial strode ahead towards one of the senior uhlans. "Aya, comrade – I recall I had other subordinates stationed near here. Have you encountered…"

"Silence! Danger is near…"

"Clearly…" Filial began, but something seemed very off about the man's response. "Have you been receiving clear orders lately? We need to contact Mendicant Bias – this entire situation…"  
"Mendicant Bias received a new assignment this morning. The Master Builder is withdrawing numerous forces to respond to a new…"

"Filial! Look – over by the nearest Seeker!" Cordial bellowed.

Filial whipped his head around, seeing a guardsmen kneeling down, moving something…

 _Someone_ – one of his lieutenants, who he had placed on watch: a soldier with well conditioned armour, now marred by a molten hole below the chest.

"Treachery!" Cordial snarled, before a guardsman activated a blue, hardlight staff, raised it from his side, and plunged it into Cordial's twisting abdomen.

Filial fell to the floor, and many of his subordinates did likewise. Then he rolled, and tore at the guard captain's lightrifle, slamming it into his neckline.

The scene descended into chaos.

Guardsmen began firing from each end of the column, whilst the betrayed security forces struggled to raise their own, much depleted sidearms. Filial drew his boltshot pistol, fully charged it, and released the whole cell into the guardsman's face as he struggled to rise.

The yellow energy splashed into the man's golden, bird-styled helmet, splintering across it, and then dissolving the metal, filigree by filigree and plate by plate. A grey skinned face was briefly visible, wincing. Filial drew his last grenade, lit it, and attached it to the guard's chest, before throwing himself back. He shielded his eyes from the flash, hearing a brief scream.

When he turned his head again, he saw golden embers raining down – metal and flesh converted instantly into energy, suppressed neutrinos knotting together and floating away. Around him, many of his soldiers already lay, wounded or dead – caught almost unawares by the sudden act of betrayal. He and a few others only still stood due to the sloppiness of one, possibly agitated member of this formerly respected and trusted guard corp.

If even these would attack them, who else was waiting to stick a knife into their hearts?

"Master Builder – what have you _done!?"_ the words tore out of him in sullen rage. "What is this new _game_ we have been sacrificed for?"

The clouds split, and several silver and crimson Seekers hurtled into view, trailing legs and sensory probes like some burred flower. Most furled back, but larger arms budded forward, spitting particle beams into the ranks of the traitorous Builder guards. Blue energy cored straight through a dozen of them, leaving molten orange organs behind. In seconds, they had all fallen beside Filial's own departed comrades.

A hatch opened on the nearest Seeker, whilst the rest circled the grounded enemy vehicles, harrying them.

" _Sir!_ Commander! We need to get out of here!"

Filial didn't have time, or the presence of mind, to currently recognise the new soldier, and his helmet was currently lowered – a sign of respect towards the guard captain he had hoped to peacefully converse with: "Is there anyone else? Have we many left?"  
"Enough – enough to repay this outrage, if we act swiftly: we will gather our forces, and take the fight back to the Master Builder's forces. There are rumours already he has ordered the death of several scientists…"

"There is more, my friend: at the lab, back there – there are Flood specimens loose! Why they were interred here in such number I cannot guess – but I cannot either imagine we will appreciate the answer. We must purge it, before our revenge can be slaked…"


	16. Chapter 16

STRING 23

 _Earth calendar – estimated 97,452 BCE…_

 _(Copy of combat logs of the_ Solar Lathe, _Master Builder's itinerary)_

The detention centre was deep within the Master Builder's fortifications now established on Janjur Qom, and housed chambers where even heavily armoured Forerunners could be detained and prevented from any action or movement, either by shutting down their armour systems or suspending them altogether in stasis bubbles. Maximum security surrounded the Didact, whilst the two humans received a more cursory treatment.

The younger Forerunner, tentatively identified as Bornstellar Makes Eternal Lasting, was being awoken from suspension so that Faber could interrogate him on his recent dealings with the Didact – and learn how much the old warrior had uncovered.

The young Forerunner – a mere adolescent, Faber surmised – blinked his eyes uncertainly as he took in his surroundings.

"There you are. I ask you again, Manipular," Faber began, utilising the traditional title for an apprenticed Builder. "What has the Didact done to you?"

"I… I'm a first-form, not a Manipular."

"You smell like a Warrior-Servant, but you look more like a misshapen Builder. How did that happen?"

"Brevet Mutation: Necessary under the circumstances."

Faber snorted slowly. Mutation was the process all major Forerunners underwent through their maturation, as they progressed to higher forms on the road to greater physical perfection and greater integration with their tools, technology and software, allowing them wider and neater control over a range of sophisticated systems, and to process more and more data. A single mutated Forerunner could do the work of a dozen lesser specimens, multitasking over many duties, or employing heightened physical strength. The first stage occurred in adolescence, and then continued over the centuries, allowing life to be vastly extended as well - as the Master Builder's own thirteen thousand plus years of life attested.

"Do you know where you are and what has happened?"  
"I saw the planet being devastated. I saw a great ring lit by the sun on one side. Perhaps I imagined it."

A lie? Quite likely… but he couldn't yet be sure. _Was this a mere refugee rescued from the Flood on the Didact's travels here?_  
"Mm. You're on what is left of Janjur Qom, the primary treaty planet of the San'Shyuum. Our former enemies have turned enemy again. Not unforeseen, but can you tell me why the Prometheans have allowed this to happen?"

"No…"

"Why would the Librarian's recent visit provoke this uprising?"

"I don't know that it did."

"But you do know about her visit."

"The Confirmer mentioned it."

"Ah – a shameful travesty that one – who guards the guards?" Faber murmured, recalling the simple pressure he had utilised to make the Didact's old ally cave in and admit the Didact's visit. "Still, he has the wit to serve those who release him from onerous duties. You seem to remember a _few_ important things."  
"I'm not trying to deceive you," Bornstellar said weakly.

"Of course not: it must feel good to be back among your kind."

"I don't know that I _am_ , yet." There seemed some steel in the reply.

"A violent return to the fold, that's for sure – but under the circumstances, we could not afford to have an unassigned ship interfere with our operations;" _As highly_ sensitive _as they are…_

"There were humans."  
"I haven't inquired," Faber lied. "If so – that infraction will be punished, as well." It was a matter of strongly enforced treaty that humans and San'Shyuum were to have no proper contact with each other for many millennia to come, to prevent further collusion or exchange of military secrets.

"Who are you?"

"I am the Master Builder. You've met me before, Manipular." Now Faber was confident that this was Bornstellar, he having already met the boy's father to discuss system and architectural redesigns of the Halo weapons over the last few years – when he had been shuttling too and from the Halo and its ancient passenger he had interred there. "When did you join the Didact on his mission?"

"On Erde-Tyrene."

"Erde-Tyrene is assigned to the Lifeworkers as a nature preserve, under the protection of the Librarian. Were humans involved with this plot from the beginning?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Were they aware of the consequences of liberating the Didact from his Warrior Keep?" This much had Faber's spies already reported – that the Didact had apparently resurfaced on the human homeworld itself – as incredible as that seemed – on some remote island yet, and then departed in a buried starship that had eluded pursuit. Remains of his Cryptum – his hibernation shell – had been found as well, already disassembled.

"I don't think so."

"It's our best theory to date, that all of you were guided by the Librarian in an effort to frustrate the Council. Do you personally disagree with the Council?"  
"I don't know."

Faber snorted again. "How can you be so uninformed?"

"By not paying attention: I lived among Miners before slipping away to Erde Tyrene. They have little interest in Builders and their affairs."

A foster family – a temporary apprenticeship, the father had informed him. "True: Your family expresses support for you, but extreme disappointment and surprise at your actions. For the time being, your father has entrusted me, personally, with your welfare."

The discussion turned briefly after that to the matter of Bornstellar's father – now that Faber was convinced the youngster was who his relatives had purported him to be. Bornstellar exhibited caution and concern for what he had to say about his family, and emphasised the jumbling of memories he felt himself to have as a result of mutation. And a Brevet mutation at that – an unplanned and emergency measure that it seemed had happened at the Didact's own instigation.

To learn more about _that_ , he would go directly to the source…

Security admitted Faber to the Didact's own cell, where the hulking Warrior Servant stood, largely divested of his armour and its power systems. This time, his old colleague turned adversary was completely at Faber's mercy, caged, trapped, and unable to escape – unless he wished it. He could not merely eliminate him though – not so brazenly, and at least, not yet.

" _Aya_ – old friend: I did not expect to see you again for millennia – and certainly not in circumstances such as this. I hear you were festering upon the human home planet itself – interred on a simple island, whilst you slumbered."

The Didact shifted and bared his mighty shoulders imposingly.

"Not through my own free choice, I can confidently inform you. But I trust that I was where I needed to be, now that the galaxy again faces dire peril. Are your tactics as fruitful as they once were before?"

"They proceed. Did you get a look at my masterpiece?"

"Your giant spinning hoop? A _(Baroque)_ piece of theatre, as imposing but impractical as always: I already hear Slipspace traffic is in chaos due to their immense bulk."

A shot across the bows, but to be expected, given his hostile reception: "It is now very _far_ from impractical, Shadow – given its destructive power. It is now fully tested, and ready to strike directly at the Flood."

"I do not grant you permission to use my innermost name," the Didact – Shadow of Sundered Star – remonstrated. "And many among the Council would I think be _very_ interested to know the use to which you have put your toy – upon a civilised world, devoid of Flood."

"In this galaxy we encounter many nervous systems – if the Flood had consumed merely Huragok we would have no shortage of test material and results to easily collate. And we cannot allow one of our old enemies to open an entirely new front against us whilst they rearm for conflict. The Council will accede to my wisdom soon enough," Faber blustered.

"The Librarian never will…"

"The Librarian will soon be _finished_ once news of her recent actions come to light! Relocating you to the human planet, implanting secrets into specimens of them, and having you transport them here to their old allies – acts potentially treasonous. And here I find you also, at the centre of the web. Your time grows short."

"If I am right, so does yours, and perhaps, everyone else's. You have been to Charuum Hakkor again? You found the nightmare you sought?"

"This _nightmare_ – you know nothing of it, old soldier. You know little of its true nature, and the secrets it can unfurl. It aided the humans before, to great success."

"And to great sorrow – I know they paid a terrible price for what they gained: A stay of execution from the Flood, perhaps. Do not look so shocked – I had my own sources, and I even located the creature itself, back before you first arrested me. I had much time to ponder its cryptic replies – and to be thankful it remained safely restrained. But you – as ever – proved too ambitious, too impatient – and too _clever_ , even for your own sake Faber. You unleashed it, you set it free, to walk among us again. If it is a god, it is a mad one, Faber – or even worse, a misshapen fallen thing – a demon."

"Do not _insult_ me, Promethean! Do not think me some amateur schemer like the Phylarch! I have possession of this so-called mad god, and it is at present merely a confused and doddering relic, barely recalling its past. But it will awaken in time – enough, I think, to help us end this war, and usher in the true golden age of the Forerunners! We will ascend to greater mastery of the Mantle than we have ever possessed before, and perhaps, to true immortality. The galaxy will never rise in chaos and disharmony again."

"All so you can 'call the tune', Faber? I think you delude yourself. You do not truly understand them – none of us can. I suspect those that remained have changed greatly over the past few million years, and they may not look so fondly upon us and our blunderings. Perhaps it will help us – and perhaps also exact an immense sacrifice as I suspect it did from the humans before."

"And perhaps you will be around to _see it_. But you are to come with me next, Didact. There is to be a trial – a great trial – of our enemies here on this world. And you, my friend, are the star witness!" Faber finished triumphantly.

Faber left the chamber, to prepare his next plans. But he also had to check in with his other lieutenants, and be kept up to date on other details.

"Report, Shaper of Ashlar."

"The other Halos are now deployed and undergoing test simulations, at various positions. Fleet battlegroups remain nearby to protect them."

"And the initial testbed ring?"

"It appears to have departed back to its prior location earlier today. It has not arrived yet, but I assume this is a matter of caution and stealth. Mendicant Bias has indicated as much, and at least, has given no information so as to raise concern. I assume he has things well in, well, in hand, so to speak."

"Very well: inform me when it arrives back at its parking orbit, Shaper. We will soon need to bring to before the Council – at a time and circumstance of our own choosing. For now, we have other business…"

An amphitheatre of sorts had been roughly assembled, upon an open plain outside of the shattered capital of the San'Shyuum. Survivors from orbit and nearby worlds were rounded up and assembled in the capital. Authorities and respected leaders were funned into the amphitheatre, restrained by binders and suspended in floating energy bubbles, separated from each other.

A senior elder of the San'Shyuum species – a Prophet, these were often known as – was summoned to a rough podium, more of a circle, really – and position before the crowd, both standing and hovering.

"I am called, by my fellows, Sustaining Wind. How may we assist you, triumphant one?" he said, wheezing and softly.

Faber ordered to the two human prisoners forward in their containment bubbles, each wearing disabled armour of their own, that the Didact had, most amusingly, decided to clad them in. Was he growing senile, playing wargames with his old foes? Already, the humans had bifurcated into several subspecies as a result of their forced devolution due to the Forerunners nearly ten thousand years prior – so that each specimen bore considerable differences from each other, in height and build alone.

The other Prophet elders eyed the humans with a mixture of pity and disgust, seeing little of the stature of their historic allies. "They are _debased_. This is the fate that awaited us! It was foretold by past Prophets, and demonstrated by the sorrow of the Librarian. Was it the presence of these wretches that brought this devastation upon us?"

"Let's not forget the secret construction and stockpiling of ships and attacks upon our visiting fleet," Faber interjected sharply.

"Is this then some attempt to remind us of our shame, in our time of final destruction?" the younger Prophet asked ruefully. "And why do you give them _Forerunner_ armour? Are these vanquished ones now elevated to higher status than those with whom you signed treaties? Did you enlist _them_ in this attack?"

"The humans are servants of the Librarian," Faber said, and nodded to a set of guards on the floor below. They separated the Prophets from the humans, forcing them gently back.

"What memories quicken in you at this pitiful sight?" he asked the Didact, anchored near him in his own bubble. "Are there other clues to be found here… about that which we have lost?" Faber added coyly, deciding now was a good a time as any to broach the subject of the human's supposed Flood cure again, however indirectly.

Sustaining Wind interjected. "The Librarian selected a few from among us, and then she left. Her visit told us that whatever we did, destruction would soon be upon us. We reacted as any civilised species must – to preserve our heritage and our children." He turned to the Didact. "What have you brought upon us? You gave us your word of honour."

"He thought you concealed a great secret. You know why we are here?"

"We are not savages. We have observed, listened. Your people are on the verge of desperation, even panic. The front has advanced – the front _we_ pushed back beyond the galaxy ten thousand years ago – the enemy we vanquished, that you _cannot_."

Faber seethed hotly – the flea-bitten old relic had no knowledge of how remorselessly he had already battled the Flood, at a time when these primitives and their human allies had already prematurely claimed victory! They had not had to suffer as Forerunner forces had, or to reinvent weapons and strategy!

"And now – you have lost something, haven't you? Something so tremendous and important that it surely cannot be hidden…"

Faber paused, reflecting. He knew his agents had interrogated the San'Shyuum a number of times on the cure as well, although those interrogations had mostly ceased millennia ago. "It has been said humans and San'Shyuum found the secret of destroying their greatest enemies. You were preserved should we ever need that secret."

Sustaining Wind looked up with bitter satisfaction. "The Master Builder brought doom upon us – and upon yourselves. No secrets, no future."

There were a few angry murmurs Faber heard faintly from his armour's audio channels, of his other supporters reacting. "As for your doom – that, I believe. I see there never was a secret and no reason to preserve," he added, to suggest the wizened Prophet had few cards left he dare to play. "You have violated our treaty. Forerunners never tolerate betrayal of trust. But while it's clear to me that you have nothing to offer, I have to ask you about the Didact's secret – the one he conspired to hide, with your help." _There – let him turn his resentment against another supposed enemy of the Prophets._ Then another set of bubbles floated up out of a lift, and into the gathering. These too, contained San'Shyuum, but younger ones, who appeared badly injured, with amputated limbs in many cases. Not merely from the battle, but also, perhaps, from interrogation, Faber suspected. The bubbles faded, and the unlucky beings were herded into a line in front of their own elders.

"These are the vipers in our beds – the personal agents of this defeat. I will not share _breath_ with them," Winds spat.

"Promethean, hear me. You have one last chance to redeem yourself. I have had this planet searched high and low by my special intelligence forces. All who might confirm what you claim exists are assembled here – preserved even in their treason. Their families are dead, the resistance completely crushed. Surely now they will reveal what they have concealed for so long – or so you've claimed, all these thousands of years," Faber proclaimed onerously.

The Didact took in the prisoners with a tired glance. "You've picked and preserved… in _error_ …"

Faber bristled, and fought to control himself. "No questions for them?"

"There was a San'Shyuum who I knew and worked with after your defeat," the Didact announced to the elders. "He, too, entered a state of exile to atone for the defeat he faced against my forces. Before then, we established a kind of bond, such as there might be between those who lost and took away so many brave fellows and family. He it was who told me that when the time comes, when the enemies of all return, he would reveal his secret, in exchange for the freedom of his descendants. I do not see him here."

Faber struggled to incorporate this new wrinkle. He knew that the San'Shyuum had their own means of cryogenic preservation, ranging from ceremonial mausoleums to their own time-distorting technology, such had been used at Charum Hakkor upon the… prisoner there. A first-hand witness of the cure would be invaluable.

"You speak of our First Prophet."

"Where is this _dirt-beast?_ " Faber practically spat, employing the most notorious slur his people had for lesser species _(Compiler's note: it may lose something in the translation)_

"I saw his palace destroyed in the first assault. He is no more," Sustaining Wind spoke sorrowfully.

Faber signalled the guards to move behind the prisoners, restraining them further. He now had fewer cards left to play.

"You can save these warriors, if you tell me what happened on Charum Hakkor, and how that ties in with this _prophet_ and his secret. A prison holds a prisoner, but someone here holds the key," he addressed the Didact, coldly and severe.

Bornstellar, floating nearby and witness to the spectacle, suddenly spoke. "You brought your _Halo_ to Charum Hakkor – is that what you've lost?"

 _Definitely there – they all were!_ Faber grimaced, paranoia swelling.

"Enough!" The Didact warned.

Eyes boiling with betrayal – and fear – Faber turned upon Bornstellar a penetrating glare, and strode closer.

"If no one can tell me where this prisoner might have gone – or indeed, who or what it was – then we are done here. This world is done. This line of history is about to end…"

Before he moved to threaten Bornstellar directly, he sent a mental communication via lesser Domain channels to Shaper of Ashlar once more: _Is there no more news? Where is the Halo – the prisoner? Is there any word at all from Mendicant Bias?_

Only milliseconds elapsed, but the reply was rueful.

 _Alas… my liege: there is none. All have completely vanished._


End file.
